


Breathing Space

by phenomenology



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Marijuana, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of drugs, Minor Character Death, Trans Female Character, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Trans Pidge | Katie Holt, aka Matt died in the past, i guess just a warning, matt is only mentioned v briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2018-11-13 10:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11182926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomenology/pseuds/phenomenology
Summary: It's not an easy life, but it's the only one they've got. So they'll lean on each other and make it work.





	1. As Long As You're Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> I support all non-cisgendered versions of Pidge's character, this story just happens to have Pidge as a trans female. Please respect everyone's opinions and thoughts regarding Pidge's gender. Thanks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pidge?” Lance slurred, sitting up a little, Keith grunting softly in protest at the movement. “You okay?”
> 
> “Y-Yeah,” Pidge stuttered, wiping furiously at her traitorous tears. “I-I’m—fuck.”
> 
> Or the one where they're normal highschool students but things are still kind of complicated.

Lance rolled over in bed, wrist glancing off the wall as he carelessly flopped his gangly limbs around. He wasn’t sure why he had woken up, but he could feel the sheets tangled around his knees, proving very uncomfortable and not exactly ideal for someone trying to go back to sleep. Groaning at the thought of sitting up, Lance rolled away from his wall again and squinted at his clock on his bedside table, the digital numbers glaring back an angry red, punishing him for being awake at two forty-one in the morning.

Seriously, why the hell was he awake? Lance couldn’t remember having a weird or scary dream that would have woken him up, and as far as he could remember there had been no noise in his house to startle him to wakefulness.

Lazily kicking his legs one after the other with a frustrated grunt, Lance attempted to free his legs without actually getting up, an effort that was proven fruitless as it only served to ensnare him further.

But then a tapping noise at his window, quick and irritated, pushed Lance into an upright position as a shot of adrenaline pumped through his system. His first thought was: burglar, before rational thinking made Lance question why a burglar would be so polite as to knock before entering. Shoving at the sheets knotted around his knees – honestly how did this even happen without him noticing? – Lance simultaneously squinted through the darkness at his dimly illuminated window. There was definitely a human shaped silhouette outlined against the distant glow from the streetlamp down the block, but other than that, Lance couldn’t make out any defining features of whoever decided to show up at his window at nearly three in the morning.

Hesitantly, Lance reached over to his bedside table and switched on his lamp, blinking heavily against the harsh, artificial glare that suddenly flooded his bedroom. The person at the window shielded their eye against the sudden light, not having been prepared for the onslaught it caused to their vision. After blinking for a moment, Lance was able to make out the familiar patches stitched into the worn leather of Pidge’s aviator jacket. Sighing with relief, Lance managed to shove himself free of the blankets on his bed and walked over to the window, hoisting it open before standing aside to let in his friend.

“Y’know, Pidge,” Lance began with fond annoyance coating his tone. “I love having you over and all, but it’s almost three in the morning and—whoa…hey, what happened?” As Lance was speaking, Pidge had dropped to her knees on Lance’s bedroom floor, shoulders shaking with muffled sobs as she curled into herself. Lance was by Pidge’s side in an instant, the window still open and letting the cool breeze of early autumn waft through the unscreened entrance.

Pidge leaned slightly into the warmth of Lance’s hand when he placed it on her shoulder, only serving to heighten Lance’s worry, as Pidge was never much one for physical contact. She sniffled and wiped furiously at her eyes, glasses clinking softly against Pidge’s knuckles as she pushed her hands under the rims to try and stop her tears. Pidge had a thin hoodie on under her jacket, the grey hood pulled low over her head and serving to mostly hide her face from Lance’s view.

“What happened?” Lance asked again, voice soft and patient. Pidge was never one to openly display her emotions, preferring to resort to deadpan sarcasm instead of actually expressing what she really felt. This was mostly uncharted territory for Lance, but he decided to approach Pidge the same way he would approach one of his younger siblings. Just with less coddling.

“I-I told them…I told them everything,” Pidge hiccuped around a quiet sob. She wiped angrily at her eyes again and curled her fingers into half-hearted fists in her lap.

“Told who, what?” Lance asked, shifting his weight so he was sitting cross-legged beside his friend. He moved his hand from Pidge’s shoulder to lightly rub up and down her back. The worn leather stuck and dragged with Lance’s skin but he continued the motion anyway.

“My pa-arents,” Pidge gasped out, giving up and pulling her glasses off, tossing them to the carpet and burying her face in her hands. “I c-came out to my parents a-and th-they told me…they said-" Pidge’s voice broke and her shoulders heaved under Lance’s hand as a fresh wave of sobs took over her body. Long, drawn out whines and heaving breaths were muffled slightly by Pidge’s hands covering her face, but the sound pulled at Lance’s heart anyway. He gathered Pidge into his arms and wrapped his legs loosely around Pidge so she was pseudo-sitting in his lap. Tucking Pidge’s head under his chin, Lance rocked his friend back and forth gently.

He knew what her parents’ acceptance would have meant to Pidge. After they had lost Matt, things hadn’t been the same in Pidge’s house, her parents were more protective of their youngest child, hardly allowing Pidge to hang out with friends even if they were just walking to the local diner for late night pancakes.

Lance quietly hushed Pidge’s sobs, feeling her thin arms wrap around his torso as she shifted to accommodate the new position. Pidge buried her face in Lance’s chest and cried a little more, Lance’s hand running soothingly up and down her back the whole time. It took a while, but Pidge finally stopped crying and leaned out of Lance’s embrace, arms unwinding from his torso as Lance freed Pidge from his arms.

Pidge was staring at Lance’s carpet, wiping every now and then at her eyes and sniffling quietly. Lance opened his mouth to ask a question, but Pidge beat him to it.

“I cut my hair.”

Lance shut his mouth and then, “By yourself?”

“Yes. It looks horrible…but I cut it.”

“Can I see?”

Pidge reached up with shaky fingers and pushed the grey hood back, revealing the drastically shorter, puffier golden brown mop of hair. The cut was choppy and sat longer than what Pidge had intended, but she had been too scared to cut any shorter without making it look even worse. She told as much to Lance and he only smiled with understanding.

“I can fix it in the morning if you want. For now though, you can sleep here. I have my old sleeping bag in my closet from camping, do you want that or do you want the bed?”

Pidge pursed her lips and glanced up at Lance’s bed, taking in the messy sheets and rumpled pillow. Looking back to Lance, who had stood from his position on the floor and wandered over to his closet to unearth the aforementioned sleeping bag, Pidge sighed quietly and tugged the hood back up over the mess her hair had become. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her aviator jacket, Pidge curled into herself a little bit, shoulders hunching forward with the motion.

“I’ll take the sleeping bag, please,” Pidge whispered.

“You sure?” Lance grunted as he tugged the sleeping bag free from the corner of his closet it had been buried in. “You can take my bed if you want. I would give you the guest room, but my aunt came to visit for a few days and is using that room right now.”

“Which aunt?” Pidge questioned, effectively telling Lance that she was okay with the sleeping bag by avoiding the topic. “Don’t two of your aunts live here already?”

“Yup,” Lance said, nudging the closet shut with his hip before he started to lie out the thermal, dark colored sleeping bag. “Aunt June and Aunt Sophia live here since it’s cheaper than living on their own. Plus, after Uncle Tom passed away, Aunt June doesn’t like being on her own. But yeah Aunt Rosa is visiting until Thursday since she’s driving back home from a business trip.”

“You have a big family,” Pidge said flatly, already knowing this to be true but still being amazed by just _how_ big Lance’s family was each time it was mentioned. Her own family consisted of her father, mother, her mother’s sister and her husband and son, and her father’s parents. There used to be Matt, but that was a topic actively avoided by anyone that knew the Holt’s.

Lance smoothed out the sleeping bag on the floor, fluffing up a spare pillow he had produced from some other part of his closet and set it down at the mouth of the sleeping bag. He stood and put his hand on his hips, smiling down at Pidge where she was still curled up on the floor.

“Welcome to Hotel Lance, honored guest. Your room is ready for you. Would you like an extra blanket and a wake up call?”

“Har, har,” Pidge drawled, but found herself smiling despite the sarcastic tone. Crawling over to the makeshift bed, Pidge kicked off her chucks and burrowed into the thermal bag, sighing contentedly at the soft warmth surrounding her. Before she could even ask for the extra blanket, Lance was settling a large, fluffy, cream-colored blanket overtop the sleeping bag and tucking it into place. Once he was finished that, Lance stood and crossed to the still open window, shutting it and drawing the long curtains closed. Making his was back across the room, Lance scooped up Pidge's discarded glasses and set them on his bedside table.

Pidge expected him to hop into bed after that, but to her surprise, he turned and sat down at Pidge’s head, looking down at her, strangely serious.

“Can I assume that you didn’t tell your parents you were leaving for the night?” Pidge tensed at the mention of her parents, but nodded in affirmation, avoiding Lance’s eye.

“Figured…that’s okay. I’ll make sure that there’s a toothbrush for you when we wake up. Do you need to get your backpack from your house before school tomorrow?”

Blinking up at Lance, Pidge took a moment to be baffled at how thoughtful and proactive Lance was being about this entire situation. Pidge shook her head no and sighed quietly as she burrowed a little deeper into the sleeping bag.

“No, I left all my books and notes at school. I finished everything before school ended yesterday during my free period.”

“As expected of our resident genius,” Lance chuckled, pushing to his feet and flopping down on his bed, drawing his legs up and straightening out his sheets. “You have so much free time I’m sure you’ve hacked into the Pentagon already with that brain of yours.”

“You’re one to talk, mister 4.2 GPA,” Pidge quipped, rolling onto her side to face Lance as he settled back into bed. “You may not be a super genius, but I know you take honors and AP courses and study your ass off. Why do you let everyone believe your just some simple class clown who can barely do basic multiplication?”

Tucking an arm behind his head, Lance stared up at the ceiling and smiled small and secret. Pidge couldn’t see his entire expression, but she could tell there was something pained gleaming in his eyes as he stared at some invisible image on his ceiling.

“It’s easier that way, I guess,” Lance eventually sighed. “I’m just a boy with a family from Cuba. People look at where I’ve come from and assume I can barely speak English. Maybe one day, I’ll make them actually look at me and change their minds, but for now, it’s easier when they leave me alone and let me work and study in peace.”

“But why?” Pidge prodded. “You could get so much recognition, so many scholarships and opportunities if you showcased how smart you are. You should take advantage of it.”

Lance rolled to look at Pidge, smiling tight and sad at his friend. “It’s easier to impress people when they don’t expect anything from you.”

Blinking at Lance, Pidge could feel her mouth hanging open slightly, unable to formulate a response to that. It was true that when she had first met Lance, he had been loud and amusing, not exuding any air of seriousness or above average intelligence whatsoever. It was only after they had been paired together for a project, and Lance had actually contributed just as much to the assignment as Pidge had, that she reevaluated her impression of Lance.

“Whelp, we’ve got school in the morning, unfortunately,” Lance’s cheerful voice broke Pidge free from her thoughts. “If we don’t wake up on time, Mama will never let me hear the end of it. She’ll probably coddle you, but I’ll definitely get an earful.”

Pidge settled back down into the sleeping bag as Lance stretched to turn off his bedside lamp.

“G’night Pidge,” Lance yawned into the darkness that had settled over the room once again.

“Night, Lance,” Pidge responded quietly to the rustling of bed sheets as Lance adjusted his position to go to sleep.

* * *

True to Lance’s word, when Pidge blearily stumbled into the bathroom at six-thirty that same morning, there was a bright green toothbrush placed neatly atop a folded towel on the bathroom counter. Lance’s bed had been immaculately made and the bathroom near his bedroom vacated by the time Pidge’s preset alarm on her phone had dragged the warmth of unconsciousness off her heavy eyelids. There was a soft, indistinct murmur traveling gently up the stairs that clued Pidge into where Lance might be this early in the morning.

Scooping up her new toothbrush and loading it with a glob of toothpaste, Pidge decided that she liked the warm murmur of activity in the morning compared to the cold silence that she was used to in the Holt household.

Straightening out her clothes, adjusting her glasses and tugging her hood up, trying to ignore the fact that this would be day two in the same outfit, Pidge trudged still somewhat sleepily downstairs. She only hesitated for a moment at the doorway before nervously shuffling into the kitchen. Pidge knew that Lance was very close with his family, especially his mother, but she was unsure as to whether Mrs. McClain had been made aware of Pidge’s impromptu presence.

Pidge was a fool.

The moment Lance’s mother spotted Pidge, she was beaming brighter than the sun peaking over the treetops and sweeping Pidge into a warm embrace. Blinking belatedly and sinking instinctively into the warm touch, Pidge realized it was stupid to be nervous at all. Mrs. McClain was the kindest soul Pidge had ever met.

“Pidge!” Mrs. McClain chirped happily, her somewhat thick accent warming her tone. “It’s been far too long since I last saw you, little one! How are you doing? Lance told me you dropped by so I cooked a little extra for breakfast for you!” Suddenly Pidge was being pushed back from the pleasant hug and almost wanted to cry at the loss, wanting to hug Lance’s kind mother just a moment longer. It had been a while since Pidge’s own mother had hugged her. After what happened to Matt, physical touch had become scarce in the Holt household. But when Pidge looked up at Lance's mother, the frown on Mrs. McClain’s face made Pidge’s heart drop a little. She was suddenly frightened that maybe she had done something wrong and Mrs. McClain was going to be upset with her.

“You’re thinner than when I last saw you. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? I bet you haven’t been eating properly,” Mrs. McClain _tsked_ as she brought her hands to Pidge’s cheeks to test the shallowness of them. Pidge blinked again, feeling relief wash through her that Mrs. McClain's upset frown wasn't because Pidge had disappointed her. For some reason, Pidge really, genuinely cared about not upsetting Lance's mother. “This won’t do at all, you and my boy have big brains to feed and you need lots of nutrients to do that! Come along, sit down and tuck in! Breakfast will be done in two minutes.”

Too stunned by the barrage of concern and warmth radiating from Lance’s mother, Pidge allowed herself to be steered to the large, wood kitchen table and planted comfortably in a worn chair. Glancing up as Mrs. McClain bustled happily back over to the stove, Lance plopped himself down to Pidge’s right.

“I love your mother,” Pidge said, turning to look at Lance seriously. “Please adopt me.”

Lance laughed, clear and happy, and Pidge smiled a little despite trying to hold a serious expression. Before she could insist that she was entirely serious, Lance’s mother was placing two heaping plates of steaming eggs, crisp waffles, piles of fruit and a small mountain of hash browns in front of the two teens. Lance stood to kiss his mother on the cheek and grab the two glasses of milk she had left behind on the counter.

“Thanks, Mama,” Lance said fondly, his mother ruffling his hair gently as she walked back to the other side of the kitchen, telling them to enjoy the food as she did.

* * *

“Whoa, Pidge,” Hunk twisted around in his seat at the desk he shared with Lance. His eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as Hunk took in his smaller friend. “What’s up with the new do?”

Pidge cast her gaze sideways towards the floor and tugged the beanie she had borrowed from Lance down over her ears. She mumbled some sort of excuse as Pidge felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“What?”

“Hunk,” Lance’s voice gently interrupted. “Not now.”

“Why? I was just gonna-” Lance shot Hunk a look and Hunk seemed to realize that it was more than just a simple, on a whim haircut and he stopped. He turned to Lance and pointed at the beanie Pidge was wearing and grinned a little. “So did Pidge sneak in a steal that from you like she did with your wallet that one time? What did you do to piss Pidge off this time?”

Despite the mood she had been sinking into, Pidge smiled a little and looked up at her friends in time to catch the affronted look on Lance’s face as he playfully whacked Hunk’s arm. “Hey man, I’m a _saint_! I didn’t do anything wrong.”

At the looks he received from both Hunk and Pidge, Lance smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his head. “Okay, _this_ time. I loaned Pidge the beanie, I swear! Also, Pidge you little gremlin, speaking of which, I know you took my frequent buyer card from the ice cream shop when you stole my wallet.”

With a shrug, Pidge folded her arms on top of the desk and tried to look as innocent as possible. “You had nine out of ten stamps, I couldn’t help myself.”

“You little-!” Lance squawked just as the bell rang. Giving up on his plan to strangle Pidge for her betrayal, Lance settled on an over-dramatic ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before he turned around to face the front of the classroom, leaving Pidge giggling and high-fiving Hunk behind him.

A minute before the teacher came striding into the classroom, Keith burst through the door, looking a little rumpled and just a tiny bit frantic as his eyes swept the classroom to make sure he had made it before their teacher. His hair was tugged messily back into a stubby ponytail and there was a smear of grease on his cheek as he plopped down in the seat across the aisle from Lance.

“Morning shift again?” Lance asked, leaning over to gently wipe at the grease on Keith’s cheek. “I thought you talked to your boss about this. It’s not fair that you have to work at the garage before _and_ after school, babe.”

Keith shrugged and leaned a little into Lance’s touch, earning a softly mumbled ‘gross’ from Pidge at their domesticity. Hunk meanwhile was fawning quietly at the pair from behind Lance.

“It was just today, Lance,” Keith sighed. “Dom called out and I was the only one who responded. But the boss took me off morning shifts, at least until summer.”

Lance still didn’t look satisfied, quietly scrutinizing the bruises of sleeplessness shadowing under Keith’s eyes. But his expression softened when Keith leaned over to kiss Lance’s cheek, smiling reassuringly.

“So you two are already married, right?” Pidge asked monotonously. “Because I swear I’ve never seen a couple act more like honeymooners than the two of you. And may I add it is totally unfair that you’re still honeymooners when you’ve been dating for two years.”

“Aw, Pidge,” Lance crooned. “You’re jealous! That’s so cute!”

Keith and Hunk chuckled as Pidge leaned forward to swat at Lance’s arm, cheeks tinged pink as she grumbled about stupid boys being in love. Thankfully for her, the teacher walked in and called the class to attention.

* * *

“This,” Lance slurred, pointing aimlessly at the star littered night sky as he lay on his back in the grass. “This is what Friday nights were made for.”

“Getting wasted?” Pidge questioned from where she was propped sleepily against a tree trunk. Hunk was sprawled half asleep beside her in the grass, his soft, hiccuping breaths the only indication that he wasn’t asleep.

“Getting wasted,” Lance repeated unsteadily. “With friends.”

“Where did you even snag this stuff?” Pidge asked, examining the vodka bottle in her hand, wrapped messily and conspicuously in a brown paper bag. “I thought Diego stopped dealing alcohol and drugs ever since he was almost caught two months ago.”

Keith, who had his head pillowed on Lance’s stomach, rolled his head to the side to look at Pidge, slightly unfocused. “He did, but if you were one of his more frequent customers before that, he’ll still deal with you every now and then when he’s got the stuff.”

“Nice,” Pidge said, tipping the bottle back and swallowing another mouthful of vodka. The bitter taste left her shuddering, but the warm buzz that followed was pleasurable enough that she could overlook the taste. Shivering a little, Pidge set the bottle aside and heaved a sigh. She took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes before raking her fingers through her newly styled hair. Lance’s mother had been kind enough to let Pidge and Lancer borrow the clippers she kept for home haircuts to fix Pidge’s hair. The mess that had previously been Pidge’s messy fluff was now trimmed close on the sides and left somewhat long on top. It wasn’t a style that Pidge would have ever chosen, but given the circumstances, it would do. She much preferred her long hair, and thinking about it now left Pidge sniffling through the threat of tears.

“Pidge?” Lance slurred, sitting up a little, Keith grunting softly in protest at the movement. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Pidge stuttered, wiping furiously at her traitorous tears. “I-I’m—fuck.”

“Pidge?” Keith was now sitting up, leaning into Lance’s shoulder to keep his drunken self steady and upright. Although the concern he felt was somewhat sobering. “What’s wrong? You’re not usually a crying drunk.”

“I-I guess I’m n-not okay,” Pidge hiccuped before promptly bursting into tears. Hunk was sitting up now, moving to toss an arm around their smaller friend as Keith and Lance dragged themselves over to the tree Pidge was leaning against.

After a few moments of uncontrollable, drunken tears, Pidge sniffled herself to composure and managed to speak in a voice thick with tears. “I-I miss my long hair. I didn’t want to cut it but after what my p-parents said the other night…I couldn’t—“

“Pidge…” Lance said quietly, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “What did your parents say? Because seeing you like this…this just isn’t acceptable. They should never have the right to make you feel like this.”

Pidge’s lower lip wobbled and she stayed quiet, staring at the ground between her legs, fingers picking at one another. Lance’s fingers tightened a little in a comforting squeeze before he spoke again, voice softer than ever.

“Does…does this have anything to do with what you said to me the other night when you showed up? About coming out to them?” Keith and Hunk glanced at each other in surprise, not having known about Pidge’s coming out. The choking noise that came from Pidge was enough confirmation for her three friends as they all shifted just a little bit closer.

“I’m so sorry, Pidge,” Keith whispered. “I really thought your parents would be accepting of you…they didn’t seem bothered when they found out Lance and I were dating.”

Pidge hiccuped and rubbed at her eyes furiously. Shaking her head, she whispered, “I don’t think they meant to…but when I told them the other night, my mom started crying a little and said that she couldn’t bear to lose another son.”

It was then that Pidge started crying even harder and rendered herself unable to speak around the gasping sobs falling from her lips. Lance pulled Pidge into his lap and rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly, whispering gentle words of comfort into her hair as Pidge continued to sob. Hunk and Keith seemed a little lost on how to comfort Pidge, their expressions pained at the revelation that Pidge’s family might never support her transition.

“M-Matt was al-lways so supportive,” Pidge managed to gasp out a few minutes later. “H-He even helped me p-pick out a name before…before the accident. I really w-wanted to tell my parents e-everything but…but how can I disappoint them like th-his?”

“Hey,” Lance said firmly, reaching out to tip Pidge’s chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Don’t you dare start thinking like that. Your parents and your family do not get to dictate whether or not your identity is valid. You are exactly who you’re supposed to be and they don’t get to guilt you and tell you who you have to be for them. You have to be yourself for no one but you. And if that means breaking ties or upsetting people in your family or who may know you, then I hate to say it like this, but they aren’t worthy of knowing you. Sometimes you have to let people go, even if they are family.”

Keith reached out to his boyfriend and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze as they shared a quiet glance. Hunk reached out to Pidge and rubbed his big hand up and down her back, smiling softly when she turned to give him a teary half-smile.

“What was the name you and Matt picked out?” Hunk asked, a hint of a drunken slur still in his voice underneath the kind tone. Pidge couldn’t help but smile a little as she shifted from her spot on the grass between Lance’s legs.

“Katie,” she said softly. “We picked it together…and he used to call me Katie when it was just the two of us at home.”

“Do you want us to call you Katie now?” Keith asked, leaning into Lance’s shoulder.

Shrugging, Pidge pulled her legs a little closer and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Either name works for now,” she sniffed. “Pidge is only a nickname, so I don’t mind it. But…I guess I would like to remember my brother and go by Katie sometimes.”

“We’ll do whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Lance promised. “Even if your parents don’t support you, we will. And Hotel Lance is always open to you.”

Snorting softly, Pidge gave Lance’s shoulder a gentle shove and mumbled her thanks to his large, silly grin.

“Now, I don’t know about you all,” Hunk slurred, reaching for the discarded bottle of vodka. “But I think this warrants a round of celebratory drinks!”


	2. Breathe My Love, Get High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Babe?” Lance’s gentle voice whispered against Keith’s hair, concerned at the sudden tension in Keith’s shoulders.
> 
> “Can I sleep here tonight?” Keith mumbled, turning his face into Lance’s neck.
> 
> “Please?” Keith’s voice broke over that one word and he was too exhausted to hate himself for being so weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 20170823: I changed up a few small details to accommodate the timeline I'm working with.

“So, you ever planning on going back to your parents’ house? Or are you permanently taking residence at Lance’s place?” Keith’s voice was muffled under the insistent cry of garage equipment and the faint clattering of tools being dropped and shifted around. Said person had his upper body bent over the open hood of the car he was currently working on. Pidge observed him as she took a long drag from the cigarette cradled between her fingers as she contemplated his question.

She must have paused too long because Keith pushed himself upright and twisted to look over his shoulder at her, eyebrow arched in question. She heaved out a smoky sigh and shook her head while shrugging one shoulder lazily. It had been two weeks since Pidge had come out to her parents. She hadn’t been home since.

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue. If I’m being honest, there’s no reason to go back there. I have my cell phone, and so far my parents haven’t tried to contact me about going back. If they’re waiting for me to let myself in through the front door, it’s not going to happen.”

“You seem less upset about the whole thing now than when it first happened,” Keith observed, ducking back into the engine compartment of the car. His jumper’s sleeves were rolled messily to his elbows, forearms streaked with grease as he tinkered around.

“I know I said my parents probably didn’t mean to upset me the way they did, but given that it’s been two weeks and neither of them have tried to apologize, I guess I thought wrong.” Pidge paused to take another painfully long drag, the bitter smoke sitting heavy on her tongue and stinging the back of her throat before she pushed it out through her nose. “I guess I don’t know them as well as I thought I did.”

Keith made a noise of triumph and quickly adjusted something in the engine compartment before pulling himself free and shutting the hood of the car. He quickly slid himself into the drivers seat, wiping his grease-covered hands off on a towel before turning the key in the ignition. The car turned over and sounded like it wouldn’t actually start for a moment before the engine roared to life. Pidge saw Keith beam at her through the windshield before he turned the car off and climbed out. He joined her by the open garage door and swiped the cigarette from between Pidge’s fingers. Ignoring her noise of protest, Keith took a single, quick drag from the near stub and passed it back to her.

“I thought you quit,” Pidge grumbled, flicking ashes towards the sidewalk as Keith huffed out the smoke on a breath. “Isn’t Lance going to get up your ass for smelling like smoke?”

Keith shrugged and leaned against the opposite side of the door. “I did quit, but one drag every now and then isn’t going to kill me. And I’ll smell more like grease and oil by the time I see him that he won’t notice. Anyway, aren’t you too young to be smoking those things legally?"

Pidge grinned slyly at Keith while balancing the stubby cigarette between her teeth as she fished her phone out of her pocket to check the time.

“Oh yeah, I’m about three years too young. But I’m also six years too young to drink alcohol and yet we do that almost every weekend. Besides, it’s not like I smoke these things everyday. I’ve had the same pack for four months.”

Keith chuckled and shook his head, loose strands of hair from his short ponytail framing his face. “Fair enough, shorty.”

Ignoring the nickname, Pidge dropped her cigarette and ground it into the pavement with the toe of her sneaker to put it out. Stooping to gingerly pick it up, she made sure it was totally out before putting it into the nearby cigarette disposal on top of a trashcan. She and Keith stood in companionable silence for a few moments longer, letting the screeching of equipment from deeper in the garage fill the lull in their conversation.

“How’s Shiro doing?” Pidge finally asked, heartbeat jumping over the older man’s name.

Keith looked around at Pidge and sighed quietly, looking very much like he wished he had another cigarette between his teeth. Pidge was half tempted to give him one.

“He’s…better. He calls home when he can, but I think the army suits him. And I think so far it’s been helping him cope with everything. The structure is what he really needed after the accident.” Keith paused and stared at the ground for a moment. “He still doesn’t really know how to let go of the guilt.”

Pidge pursed her lips and nodded stiffly, pushing down the swell of emotions that surged inside her chest at the mention of the accident. She could still remember the night Shiro had called her house, voice scratchy and hoarse from crying, from the accident, from fear. He had sounded so desperate, so terrified and Pidge hadn’t heard the guilt in his voice until she and her parents were face to face with Shiro in the emergency room lobby. She hadn’t known that the thickness in Shiro’s voice underneath the scratchy surface was guilt until she was hearing from Matt’s boyfriend himself that Matt hadn’t made it, that he was already gone.

Pidge hadn’t really ever been able to forgive herself for not getting to say goodbye to her brother. For never properly saying that she loved him, that she was eternally grateful to him for everything he had done to help her with discovering her identity, and she would always carry the guilt in her chest that she had at one time blamed Shiro for Matt’s death. She had also been furious that Shiro had gotten out alive with only minor injuries and a mild concussion, simply because the side of the car that got hit happened to be Matt’s side.

She had never hated Shiro before Matt died. In fact, Shiro was just as – if not more – supportive of Pidge finding her true identity. He would bring her books and help her understand the topics of transitioning and even went shopping with her and Matt when Pidge said that she wanted to try wearing skirts to school. Shiro and Matt had surprised Pidge on her tenth birthday with a dress that she had been eyeing up during one of their shopping trips but had decided not to buy since – at the time she had seen it – Pidge hadn’t been comfortable enough with herself to wear something like that in public. That had been right before the accident.

Shiro was like a second older brother to her, and it had torn a hole in her heart to find herself hating him for something that wasn’t even his fault. Despite that, it had still taken a while for Pidge to let go of that rage and face Shiro again.

Shaking herself back to the present, Pidge looked across at Keith who seemed lost in his own thoughts, his brow furrowed and eyes pained as he glared at the ground in front of him.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Pidge said quietly, drawing Keith’s gaze up sharply to meet her own. “He wasn’t the one that ran the red light…that drunken bastard is the one to blame.”

Keith caught his lower lip between his teeth and nodded once, sharply, before he looked into the garage at the car he had just brought back to life. Pidge had a sneaking suspicion that Keith loved working at the garage so much because he found simple ease and joy in knowing exactly how to put something back together. Shiro and Keith came from a broken home, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Keith needed something like this to give him some kind of stability, some sense of control.

Heaving out a sigh, Pidge adjusted her position against the doorframe and clicked her tongue to get Keith’s attention.

“So, do you know if Diego has anything to sell for this weekend? I’m feeling like getting baked this time would be better than getting wasted. What do you think?”

Keith let out a short laugh and pushed off the doorframe and walked over to his tool cart. He started shifting through his things and putting them back into some kind of order.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Keith said over his shoulder, the familiar noises of the garage starting to drown him out again. “I’ll see what I can talk Diego into selling tomorrow morning.”

* * *

“Hey babe!” Lance’s warm voice greeted Keith as the door to Lance’s house swung open. Keith’s brow creased in confusion as he took in the sight of his beaming boyfriend covered in various streaks of flour and other baking condiments. Lance’s fingers were coated in a thick looking layer of some kind of dough like substance as he struggled to not get it all over the door.

“Uh…I can come back later if this is a bad time,” Keith said hesitantly. Lance quickly shook his head and stood aside, opening the door a little wider for Keith with his foot.

“No, it’s okay! I was just helping Mama make some cookies, and then Cassie wanted to help too and things got a little messy after that. You know how Cassie is when it comes to making things.”

Keith felt himself grinning before he could even think about it, knowing exactly what Lance was talking about. Cassie, one of Lance’s younger sisters, was a big fan of arts and crafts that involved no order and complete chaos. It was no wonder Lance looked like he had been through a baking war zone. Slipping into the warm house and kissing a flour free spot on Lance’s cheek, Keith tossed his bag down by the door and chuckled.

“Let me see if I can help you reign her in so some of the cookies can actually get into the oven.”

Sure enough, the moment Cassie saw Keith walking into the kitchen with Lance, she squealed in delight and came bounding over, leaping into Keith’s arms and covering his shirt front with a puff of flour that had been clinging to her dress.

“Keith! You’re here!” Cassie wrapped her arms around Keith’s neck as he hoisted her more securely into his arms. Beaming, she kissed his cheek fondly and giggled hysterically when Keith dramatically swooned at the act. Lance, playing along, feigned outrage at his little sister daring to kiss _his_ boyfriend, only sending Cassie into an even more violent giggle fit.

“So little miss,” Keith said, walking over to examine the messy baking sheet on the counter. “What on earth have you got here?”

Cassie pouted in Keith’s arms, pointing down at the misshapen lumps of dough that were sporadically spread across the foil. It was one of the more orderly attempts at lining cookies up that Keith had seen the toddler produce.

“The dough’s all sticky! I can’t get it to stay!” Cassie stuck a dough-covered finger in her mouth and started sucking at the dough, clearly resigned in her task and now trying to eat whatever was left.

Chuckling, Keith set Cassie on a nearby stool and rolled up his sleeves. He walked to the sink to wash off his hands from working at the garage and called over his shoulder, “Well let me see if I can help you get that disobedient dough to look like cookies.”

Clapping her hands happily, Cassie cheered and eagerly watched Keith come back over to the cookie sheet. He and Cassie set to work; Keith helping to guide Cassie’s flour coated hands in reshaping the dough. They lined all the new dough balls up in a way that wouldn’t cause a disaster in the oven. While they worked, Keith obligingly told Cassie about the cars that he was working on at the garage. She had had a fascination with cars ever since one of her younger siblings had been gifted a set of matchbox cars for their birthday.

Finally, Keith helped Cassie down from her stool so she could watch him shove the cookie sheet into the oven. Hefting her up into his arms, Keith let Cassie set the timer on the oven before Lance’s mother came into the kitchen and stole Cassie away to clean her up.

“But Mama!” Cassie’s petulant voice echoed in the hall. “I don’t wanna wash!”

“You can’t eat cookies while covered in flour, baby,” Mrs. McClain’s calm voice answered, fading as she walked towards the bathroom. “If you don’t wash you can’t have cookies.”

Lance’s quiet chuckling in Keith’s ear drowned out the rest of the conversation. He had tucked his head onto Keith’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist from behind. Turning off the sink from where Keith had been washing his hands of dough, he turned in Lance’s arms and smiled fondly at his boyfriend.

“You’re a magician,” Lance teased, kissing Keith’s nose.

“How so?”

“I can _never_ manage to get cookies in the oven when it’s just me and Cassie.”

“That’s probably because you just end up eating the dough alongside her,” Keith stated matter-of-factly, draping his arms around Lance’s shoulders, linking his fingers behind Lance’s head. He ran his fingertips through the soft strands of hair at the base of Lance’s neck and leaned up to leave a lingering kiss on Lance’s cheek.

Sighing, Lance’s weight shifted into Keith’s touch and he laughed short and low while murmuring a light, “guilty” into Keith’s ear.

Keith removed his lips from Lance’s cheek and settled on burying his nose against his boyfriend’s shoulder. His fingers continued to absently pull through the baby hairs at the back of Lance’s head. Keith could feel Lance’s weight pressing into him as his taller boyfriend hunched to wrap himself more securely around Keith. The lip of the counter bit gently into Keith’s lower back, but he didn’t mind. Lance’s hands had slipped up underneath Keith’s shirt, one hand rubbing back and forth across the length of Keith’s waist as the nimble fingers of his other hand tapped gentle piano patterns up and down the bottom of Keith’s spine.

Breathing in deeply, Keith’s nose was pressed against the thin fabric of Lance’s shirt where it covered his collarbone. Lance smelled warm – like the cookies baking in the oven, the candles littered all over the McClain’s house, like the sun filtering through the kitchen window – and sweet – the floral body wash Lance loved to use, the herbal face mask that he had made Keith try one time, like the lotion Lance used and would rub into Keith’s back after a long day at the garage.

Unconsciously, Keith hummed soft and appreciative into Lance’s shoulder. He loved the way Lance’s house made him feel welcome and loved. Thinking of going back to his parent’s house, Keith shivered a little and clung a bit tighter to Lance.

“Babe?” Lance’s gentle voice whispered against Keith’s hair, concerned at the sudden tension in Keith’s shoulders.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Keith mumbled, turning his face into Lance’s neck. Lance’s visiting aunts had left a couple days ago, allowing Pidge to settle into the now unoccupied guest room.

Lance pulled back and Keith hated to admit that he almost broke down from the loss of affection. But when he looked up to meet Lance’s eyes, tears sprung up anyway. Lance’s eyes were full of concern, the skin at the corners of his eyes tightened with his worry as he cupped Keith’s cheeks gently.

“Please?” Keith’s voice broke over that one word and he was too exhausted to hate himself for being so weak.

“Of course, Keith,” Lance was quick to reassure him, thumbs soft as they wiped away Keith’s tears – tears he wasn’t even aware had escaped. “Did something happen with your parents?”

Keith wanted to laugh. What hadn’t happened with his parents? Before he could answer Lance, his boyfriend’s hands went tense on Keith’s cheeks and anger sparked, sudden and raging in Lance’s usually gentle blue eyes.

“Did they—?”

Keith was quick to cut Lance off, knowing exactly where his thoughts had gone. Shaking his head quick and sharp, reaching up to grab Lance’s hands, Keith squeezed reassuringly.

“No, no, Lance. God no, I would have told you right away if that happened again.”

Seeming to relax, Lance’s eyes were still smoldering at the mere memory. He was quick to pull Keith in for another hug, one arm wrapped firmly around Keith’s middle and one hand cupping the back of Keith’s head. Welcoming the embrace, Keith leaned his weight into Lance and wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend.

“I don’t know how you can keep living there…” Lance murmured. “Just because you don’t have any relatives to go to…”

“It’s okay, Lance,” Keith whispered. “I’ll be eighteen soon and I’ve been saving my paychecks. I can move out then and it’ll all be over.”

“It is _not_ okay,” Lance choked out. His grip tightened a fraction around Keith. “You could go to court…you would win without a doubt.”

Sagging against Lance’s chest, Keith trembled at the thought. He knew Lance was right but, “Lance…you know I can’t afford it. And at this point…I just can’t bring myself to talk about it in front of so many people. I just want to—”

The moment Keith’s voice broke, Lance pulled back enough to cup Keith’s cheeks and kiss his forehead comfortingly. Keith’s fingers twisted into the worn material of Lance’s shirt, grounding him.

“Hey, hey,” Lance’s soft voice whispered against Keith’s forehead. “We don’t have to keep talking about it. I’m sorry I pushed it…”

Shaking his head a little, Keith tucked his head under Lance’s chin and let out a shaky sigh. “It’s okay…it’s not like we can never talk about it.”

“Never talk about what?” Pidge’s voice sounded from the hall as she walked into the kitchen. Dropping her bag on a kitchen chair, Pidge slid onto the stool that Cassie had been using to make cookies earlier.

“Math homework,” Lance sighed dramatically, lying smoothly to spare Keith from having to face the former topic again. It’s not like Pidge wasn’t aware of what had happened, but Lance wasn’t about to open that wound again.

Pidge laughed and shook her head. “Understandable. Are you making cookies? It smells awesome in here.”

“Yeah, Cassie and I were attempting to make them and failing miserably until Keith came over and worked his magic.”

“Aw man, yes!” Pidge cheered. “Keith’s cookies are the best. Please tell me you added your magic to the dough?”

Smiling a little, Keith rubbed at his eyes and hoped that they weren’t red from his mini crying session. If they were, neither Lance nor Pidge said anything about it, for which he was grateful.

“I did, actually. Cassie helped me put all the dough back in the bowl to fix it up while Lance wasn’t looking.”

Pidge laughed while Lance draped himself across Keith’s back and protested loudly that his dough making skills were just fine, thank you very much. Keith laughed alongside Pidge as he hoisted Lance onto his back and let Lance continue whining at Pidge’s laughter even though he was doing it right in Keith’s ear.

“Pidge!” Cassie’s voice squealed as the toddler streaked into the room, her dress and hands now clean of flour and dough. “You’re home!”

“Hey squirt,” Pidge chuckled reaching down to ruffle Cassie’s hair. “Your cookies smell great! Mind if I steal one when they’re done?”

Cassie shook her head while grinning as Pidge pulled the little girl onto her lap. “They’re for everyone! Everyone can have a cookie!”

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart?”

“Pidge?” Mrs. McClain’s voice called as she walked into the kitchen. “Ah, you are home! I thought I heard you. Do you mind making sure Cassie doesn’t get herself into too much trouble while I run to the store? I forgot some things for dinner tonight and I’d feel better if someone was watching her.”

“I don’t mind,” Pidge smiled. “Are the others not home yet?” Pidge asked, referencing Lance’s four other siblings who had various after school activities they attended.

“No, not yet. And all the other adults are still at work. I hate to spring this one you—“

“It’s no problem, Mrs. McClain,” Pidge reassured her quickly. “It’s the least I can do for you letting me stay here.”

“Mama, what about Benny?” Lance called from where he and Keith had moved to sit at the kitchen table while waiting for the cookies. “Shouldn’t he be back from day care by now?”

“They’re on a field trip and won’t be back for another hour. I’m going to pick him up while I’m out,” Mrs. McClain called over her shoulder as she gathered up her purse. “If you need anything, just call me okay?”

“Oh, Mama! Is it okay if Keith sleeps here tonight? I’ll help with dinner if it makes it easier!”

“That’s fine, dear! I’ll expect your help when I get home from the store!” Mrs. McClain called before she was out the door. Cassie quickly dragged Pidge off to play with her toys in the other room, leaving Lance and Keith at the kitchen table, their legs tangled together as Lance absently traced patterns up and down Keith’s arm. Keith was scrolling through his phone when he found a picture Lance had posted of Keith and Cassie making cookies. Keith was smiling fondly at Cassie as she grinned large and proud at the dough she was shaping. Keith playfully whacked Lance’s shoulder when he read the single tag in the caption: husband material.

They fell into moment of comfortable silence before, “How was work, by the way?”

A quiet sigh, “Same as usual. I reek of oil and gasoline.”

A suggestive smile, “Want to shower?”

A soft laugh, “Are you offering or asking to join?”

“Yes. I'll even wash your hair for you.”

“Deal. Let’s go then.”

* * *

“Hunk!” A familiar, sweet voice called out. Turning, Hunk broke into a grin upon seeing Shay jogging towards him. Standing from his perch on the fountain’s rim, Hunk was ready to catch Shay in an enormous hug as she all but tackled him with her height.

“I missed you!”

“Shay, it’s only been like three hours since school ended.”

“I know! But rugby practice just dragged on without you there,” Shay pouted playfully. Her coarse, curly hair was tugged up into a messy bun from said practice. While she had changed out of her practice clothes, Hunk could still smell the distinct tang of sweat and grass on her dark skin. He loved hugging Shay after she had been playing rugby. Her hugs always seemed warmer then.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come watch today," Hunk sighed wearily. "I was looking for a job again."

"Any luck?" Shay asked hopefully, pulling back but leaving her arms looped over Hunk's shoulders. Her amber eyes glistened with hope for Hunk's success but he shook his head with another weary sigh.

“That's okay, honey," Shay said encouragingly. "You'll find something soon." Kissing Hunk's cheek, Shay pulled back and smiled warmly. "Anyway, I’m starving! Where should we eat?” Shay’s gaze scanned around the mall’s food court, her large, calloused hand slipping into Hunk’s as she did so. Gripping Shay’s hand firmly, Hunk tucked his other hand into his pocket and let Shay pick where they should get dinner. Eventually she led Hunk happily to a small counter that was selling various types of comfort food.

Once they were settled at a table with their meals, Hunk smiled at Shay and tapped her hand to get her attention.

“How was practice other than that it dragged?”

Putting her fork aside, Shay sighed and propped her chin on her hand.

“It was okay. Coach is still kind of irritable these days since Julie left the team. I mean it’s not Julie’s fault that she broke her ankle, but coach acts like it is and is probably just really upset that we haven’t gotten a replacement that matches Julie’s skill level. I think Maggie can do it, but coach won’t give her the chance.”

“It’ll all work itself out,” Hunk smiled reassuringly and grabbed Shay’s hand over the table. “I think you and the team can help your coach see what you see before it’s too late.”

Beaming, Shay squeezed Hunk’s hand in her own for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed a little and her smile slipped as she took in her boyfriend’s appearance. Tilting his head a little, Hunk silently asked what was wrong.

“Sweetie,” Shay asked softly. “Is everything okay? You’re looking thinner now that I think about it…”

Biting his lip, Hunk sighed and glanced down at his dinner in front of him. He shrugged and tried to keep himself together for Shay. She worried about him and unfortunately this wasn’t something she could fix. But at the same time he couldn’t keep anything from her.

“It’s…my parents are struggling again. We don’t have a lot of money right now so sometimes I try to help by not getting lunch at school. They’re always trying to put money down for food at school but we need that for other things at home more. I’m okay though.”

“Hunk,” Shay’s voice was soft and pained, her eyes watering when Hunk looked up to meet her gaze.

“Shay, no, don’t cry,” Hunk quickly tried to comfort her. “It’ll be okay. Mom and Dad will get paid at the end of the month and we’ll be fine for a while. Don’t worry, okay?”

Shaking her head, Shay abruptly perked up and wiped at her teary eyes. Hunk was startled at her sudden change of emotions and waited for her to speak.

“Finish your food,” Shay said cheerily. “I just thought of a place where you can get a part-time job to help you and your family.”

Blinking owlishly at his girlfriend, Hunk spluttered for a moment before, “What? Shay, what? I’ve looked all over town but no one’s hiring.”

Shay shook her head and beamed brightly at Hunk’s stunned look. “My good friend’s baker at her café just moved out of the state so she’s looking for someone to fill the position. It’ll be perfect for you! She’s super nice and the experience would be great for getting into culinary school!”

Hunk continued to stare at Shay for a long moment before he stood and moved around the table to plant a firm kiss on Shay’s forehead as he hugged her close. Shay giggled quietly and wrapped her arms around Hunk in return.

“Shay,” Hunk said in a watery voice. “You are the most amazing, wonderful, sweetest, kindest girlfriend I could have ever asked for.”

“I love you, too, Hunk,” Shay laughed. “Now finish your food so we can go to the café. We aren’t leaving until you’ve cleaned your plate!”

* * *

“Pidge I can’t believe you got my wonderful, upstanding boyfriend to buy shitty weed from Diego Ramirez,” Lance said in monotone. He was sprawled on his back in their normal grassy meet up place. Keith’s head was pillowed on Lance’s arm as he took a short drag from their shared joint of shitty weed. Pidge’s incredulous snort sounded from across the short, grassy expanse.

“Upstanding my ass,” she said bluntly. “This is the same ‘upstanding boyfriend’ you were drunk off your ass with three weeks ago. I didn’t see you complaining then.”

“He’s only complaining because the weed is bad and he wanted to get baked,” Hunk laughed from the tree he was sat against.

“You are absolutely right,” Lance said, pointing at his friend with a cheeky grin.

The group fell into companionable silence as the crappy joint was continuously passed between the four of them. The stars winked down at Lance as he stared wonderingly up at them. He had always imagined what it would be like to float among them. Him, a boy with an immigrant family that no one ever thought anything of, among the stars that people so adored.

 _What a depressing fucking pipe dream,_ Lance scoffed at himself quietly.

“My parents disowned me,” Pidge’s voice broke their silence, sliced across Lance’s self-deprecating thoughts as he and Keith sat up as one in shock. Through the faded illumination of the lanterns they had brought with them, Lance could see the tears cutting tracks down Pidge’s shallow cheeks.

“They what?” Lance asked, incredulous even though he had heard Pidge perfectly well the first time. “What the hell?”

“I’m officially a homeless orphan,” Pidge said in a watery voice, cracking a humorless grin at her friends. “A fucking waste of space that the government doesn’t even care about. The suit that came to school earlier wants to send me to an orphanage a town over unless I can find someone here who takes me in as either a foster kid or adopts me. But it’s probably a lost cause…no one would want a _freak_ like me.”

Pidge was crying hard now, her voice shaky and short as she tried to keep speaking through her tears. Keith was quick to her side, probably relating to her plight on the topic of horrible parents as he pulled her against his shoulder and rubbed Pidge’s back. Continuing to sob, Pidge leaned into Keith and sobbed into his jacket. The offer to take Pidge in was on the tip of Lance’s tongue before he remembered that it wasn’t his offer to make. His parents worked hard enough to make ends meet as it was with six children. The only reason they were still in their house was thanks to the relative that lived there and helped to pay the bills in the return.

“Pidge,” Lance said quietly. “I don’t think I can offer up adoption in the place of my parents, but you’re more than welcome to stay with us until everything’s worked out.”

Giving Lance a watery smile, Pidge nodded and wiped at her eyes, pulling her glasses off in the process.

“Thanks, Lance,” she hiccupped. “I couldn’t ask your family to adopt me…they’ve already done so much for me I would feel bad asking for that much.”

"Pidge," Keith's voice drew her attention to him. "You are _not_ a freak, you understand? Everything about you is valid and anyone who says otherwise is a piece of shit. Don't you dare allow other people or even yourself to talk down to you about who you are. Got it? We won't let anyone, not even you, tell you that you are a freak or anything less than exactly who you are."

Hiccupping softly, Pidge nodded and gave Keith a small, grateful smile as she continued to wipe at her tearful eyes.

Lance moved to sit with Keith as they continued to comfort Pidge, handing her the shitty joint as she laughed at their attempts to cheer her up. Hunk scooted closer to the three of them, absently rubbing his large hand up and down Pidge’s back while he looked contemplative.

“Pidge,” Hunk’s warm voice rumbled softly. When their small friend looked to Hunk, he asked, “How long do you think you have before they make you move into the orphanage?”

Biting her lip, Pidge looked down at her hands and gave a small shrug. “Probably a couple weeks? I think I convinced them that I needed to stay here until at least winter break. I don’t really remember what I said because I was just trying to convince them not to take me right then, but I think it was something along the lines of needing to at least complete midterms or something.”

Hunk nodded determinedly and smiled warmly. “I can work with that.”

“What?”

“We’re not letting you get away that easily,” Hunk said cheerily. “You still owe me like twenty bucks from our last bet. We’re going to make sure you get adopted into the best family possible here.”

Pidge stared at Hunk with wide eyes, Keith and Lance wearing matching expressions before Pidge’s face crumpled into tears. She flung herself at Hunk and hugged him fiercely.

“Thank you,” she sobbed, muffled into Hunk’s shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

“We would do anything for you, Pidge,” Hunk reassured her. “Including celebrating with some quality weed,” he said, pulling out a little bag from his pocket.

“I can’t believe you let us sit here for almost an hour smoking shitty weed while you had that in your pocket,” Lance said incredulously. “I thought you loved us.”

Hunk laughed loudly as Lance snatched the new weed from Hunk’s hand and started to roll a new joint for them. Pidge returned to her spot leaning against Keith’s shoulder and watched her friends continue to laugh at Lance’s mock outrage at Hunk’s ‘betrayal’.

“You guys are idiots,” she laughed fondly as Lance lit up the new joint. “Hand that over, I want to be properly hallucinating in about five minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is a multi-chapter thing now...probably gonna be five chapters.


	3. I Want To Breathe, I Hate This Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hated smelling the stench of scotch and vodka mixed toxically on his dad’s breath, the reek of cigarette smoke lingering on his clothing – the reason Keith had quit smoking as quickly as possible, afraid of becoming his father.  
> Keith hated his absent mother, the way she would vanish for days on end without so much as a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been literal months I'm so sorry I suck at updating but here's this in honor of season four!
> 
> ALSO PLEASE BE AWARE: There is abusive content in this chapter so if that is triggering to you in any way, proceed with caution dears!!

Static crackled over the phone line, even though it had only just been picked up from the other end. Each ring that had gone unanswered drove Keith’s anxiety higher and higher, a balloon expanding in his chest making it difficult to breathe, until the static answered him before his brother’s voice even reached his ears.

 _“Hello?”_ The balloon popped in Keith’s chest as a relieved sigh rushed out of him.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered, feeling fragile. “It’s me.”

 _“Keith? Hey, are you okay?”_ Smiling to himself at how easily his brother could pick up on things, even from a completely different continent over the phone, Keith huffed softly into the speaker as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. He desperately missed Shiro’s comforting voice.

“Yeah, I just…I really miss you.”

 _“I miss you too, buddy,”_ Shiro said, not sounding entirely reassured even through the light crackle of static. _“How’s school? How’s home? How’s Lance doing?”_

Keith chuckled softly and leaned into the pillow pressed between his back and his bedroom wall. He shivered a little and tugged his comforter closer to his chest. Apparently the electric company had decided that enough was enough and the consistently unpaid bills meant that Keith’s parents’ house was cut off. That meant the heating wasn’t on, even though it was the beginning of October and the nights were getting colder. It meant that the electric stove in the kitchen wouldn’t turn on and they didn’t have enough spare cash for take-out, so Keith shivered quietly and ignored the growling of his stomach under several layers of clothing and his comforter. 

“School’s good,” Keith answered, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “My grades aren’t falling this year, I swear. I actually made second honors last quarter. And Lance is good, making first honors as always.”

Shiro chuckled in time with the crackle of more static. _“I’m proud of you, Keith. And make sure to tell Lance I’m proud of him, too. Is he still doing well with that huge family of his?”_

“Will do,” Keith smiled a little. “And yeah, he and his family are good. Cassie and I made cookies a couple weeks ago and it was fun. Pidge is staying with his family, too. So the house is a little fuller than normal but Mrs. McClain doesn’t mind at all.” 

There was a moment of silence over the phone before Shiro asked, quieter than before, _“How’s she doing? Pidge, that is? Why is she with Lance’s family?”_

Keith cursed at himself silently; knowing that mentioning Pidge had probably sent his brother’s thoughts spiraling back towards Matt and the accident. It had been almost six years since that night, but Shiro had never really fully gotten past the guilt and the trauma.

“She’s okay,” Keith answered honestly. “She’s been going through some stuff though…she came out to her parents and they didn’t take it all that well. I think in the beginning she was planning on staying with them, despite their reaction. But she ran away to Lance’s the night she came out and when her parents didn’t try looking for her she decided not to go back.” Keith could hear Shiro’s sharp intake muffled by another burst of static and his heart constricted for his ridiculously protective brother. 

“They ended up disowning her a couple weeks after that and the government wants to send her to some adoption home a couple towns over, but she managed to stall that until after midterms. Hunk, Lance, and I are trying to find her a family to stay with here so she doesn’t end up in the system in a town where she doesn’t know anyone. So far we haven’t had a lot of luck but…we aren’t gonna give up on her.”

Shiro was quiet for a long time, and Keith let him stay quiet, knowing his brother was probably trying to process everything. The static quietly crackling between their lines was the only sound for a while as the minutes stretched on. It hurt Keith to know that Shiro was probably thinking about Matt, blaming himself for what happened, and probably blaming Pidge’s predicament on himself now, too. Her parents hadn’t been horrible until after they lost Matt. But none of that was Shiro’s fault, and Keith was about to tell him exactly that when Shiro spoke up.

_“Keith?”_

“Yeah, Shiro?”

_“Are mom and dad still fighting?”_

Keith’s breath hitched and he pressed a fist to his mouth to try and muffle the sobs that abruptly wanted to tear out of his chest. The quiet question brought unbidden tears to Keith’s eyes, blurring his vision as they pooled. He wanted so desperately to lie to Shiro and tell him that things were okay – not perfect, he wouldn’t believe that, but okay.

He almost did. But he couldn’t lie to Shiro.

“Yes,” Keith whispered, voice cracking pitifully over the single word.

Keith thought he heard Shiro swear softly over the line but static buzzed in his ear and he wasn’t sure if he had actually heard it or not.

_“How bad is it?”_

“T-They still can’t be in the same room with each other,” Keith hiccupped out, forcing himself to not breakdown while Shiro could hear him. “Dad lost his job a couple months ago, and mom doesn’t come home that much anymore. B-But when s-she d-d-does… _Shiro_ , it’s so bad. The electric company turned t-the p-power off t-today…I d-don’t know wh-what to d-do.”

He couldn’t help it. He broke down, sobbing harsh and sudden into his knees as Keith curled into a ball, back pressed desperately into the pillow and the wall. It was solid and sturdy and _freezing_ but it was grounding as Keith tried to get himself under control. 

Shiro’s voice in his ear brought him back a bit.

_“Keith? Keith, hey, buddy, listen to me okay? Can you hear me?”_

“Y-Yes,” Keith sobbed, wiping roughly at his teary eyes with the inside of his wrist.

_“It’s probably cold at home, right? I don’t want you to sleep there tonight. I’m not sure how late it is, but if you can, go to Lance’s place. I know it might seem burdensome to you, but I’ve met the kid and I know he won’t mind making sure you have a warm place to sleep. Can you do that? Please?”_

“I-I’ll c-call him,” Keith stuttered, lying through his teeth. It was almost three in the morning and he didn’t want Lance to know how bad it was. It would only worry Lance and Keith didn’t want to add another thing to his boyfriend’s plate. Besides, he would be eighteen before the end of the month. He could hold out.

 _“Promise?”_

“Yeah…”

 _“I'm so sorry, Keith,”_ Shiro’s voice was quiet and loaded so heavily with guilt that Keith felt like he could feel the impact of it from over the phone.

“W-Why are you sorry?” Keith sniffled, his tears and sobs coming with less force now. Shiro was good at grounding him.

_“I left you alone there…I should have made sure you got out before I joined the army.”_

“Hey,” Keith sniffled. “That’s not your fault. You needed to get out more than I did. The accident really messed you up, and I get that. I think I would have been in the same place if Lance—“ Keith stopped himself, taking a steadying breath before continuing. “This isn’t your fault. I’ll be okay.”

_“I know you say that but…you’re my little brother Keith. I’m responsible for you and I feel like I failed you. But…if things ever get to be too much, you know that my fiancée wouldn’t mind—“_

“Shiro, we’ve been over this,” Keith sighed. “You know I don’t want to bother her. She’s got her business just starting up and she just lost her parents not too long ago. I would only be a burden. I know she wouldn’t mind but I would.”

 _“The offer still stands if you find yourself in a place you can’t get out of,”_ Shiro said firmly, his voice steady even over the faint static.

“I know, Shiro,” Keith murmured. “Thank you.”

There was muffled noise from Shiro’s end and Keith could hear Shiro faintly replying to someone, his mouth clearly moved away from the speaker of the phone. Keith couldn’t make out what he was saying but it sounded a little urgent. Fingers curling tighter around his cell, Keith’s breath hitched in fear as his heart sped up a little at the thought of his brother being in danger. 

“S-Shiro?” Keith called, sounding like a scared child but not caring.

 _“I’m here,”_ Shiro spoke quickly, sounding a little rushed, his tone firmer than the one he used to normally speak to Keith with. _“I’m sorry I have to go so suddenly, but my unit’s just been assigned on a mission. I’ll call you when I can okay? Stay safe and keep your promise, okay?”_

“I-I’ll try,” Keith said breathlessly. “Stay safe, Shiro. I love you.”

 _“I love you, too, buddy,”_ Shiro said. _“I’ll see you soon.”_

The line went dead in Keith’s hand and he dropped his phone to the floor with a dull thud. Pulling his knees up to his chest, Keith allowed himself to fall apart with his face pressed securely between the crevice of his knees and the warm safety of his comforter draped over his legs. Folding his arms to rest his forehead on, Keith’s chest shuddered with the cries he muffled against his blanket. Everything felt like it was falling apart: Shiro being in constant danger overseas, his parents’ relationship spiraling ever downward as their home crumbled around them slowly, his friends’ troubles that weighed on Keith’s mind like he had the power to fix them. He couldn’t fix anything. He couldn’t even keep himself strong enough to prevent breaking down whenever he thought about his family.

Not to mention that anytime he talked to Shiro, he couldn’t help the immense guilt that settled like a rock in his stomach. He hadn’t told Shiro everything that had happened at home since he had left for the army. Every time he tried, the words caught in his throat until he swallowed them back.

Keith always told himself that he was strong, that Shiro was out and he should be happy for him. He always told himself that his parents were horrible enough in everything that they had done that he wasn’t an awful person for not caring about them.

They didn’t care about him, so why should he care for them?

But he did care about them.

He hated smelling the stench of scotch and vodka mixed toxically on his dad’s breath, the reek of cigarette smoke lingering on his clothing – the reason Keith had quit smoking as quickly as possible, afraid of becoming his father. He hated the vacant look in his dad’s eye as he downed a glass of alcohol without so much as flinching at the burn Keith knew followed every sip. Keith hated the fire that danced in his father’s eyes as he shouted drunkenly (sometimes even sober, and Keith wasn’t sure which he hated more) at Keith or his mother or both – and it was the only time his dad’s eyes weren’t faded and empty.

Keith hated his absent mother, the way she would vanish for days on end without so much as a word. He despised not knowing if this was it, if she would never come back, if she would be found dead somewhere with no one being able to provide answers as to _how_ or _why_. But he hated her even more when she would come back, smelling of sex, of sweat, of alcohol, of weed, of cigarettes, of back alleys and filthy clubs. He hated spying the signs of harder drugs than weed in his mother’s system, taking her further and further from Keith even when she was sitting in the living room.

But despite everything he hated about them, it tore Keith’s heart to pieces to watch them slowly falling apart. It was like watching statues crumble, the details so carefully carved into the stone fading and weathering with time before the actual rock itself starts to fall apart with age. 

There were many nights when Keith would press himself into the corner of his closet, door shut tight and hands pressed over his ears like a child, trying in vain to drown out the sound of his shouting parents below him. It was on those nights Keith wondered the most. He wondered what it was that drew his parents together in the first place, he wondered why they had no extended family – no grandparents, no aunts or uncles or cousins, no photographs of his parents in their youth around the house. He wondered how his parents had ever loved each other enough to have two children and not divorce before things got to where they were.

It was on those nights Keith lost hope and allowed himself to stop caring about his family.

He didn’t call Lance that night. The house was silent without his parents fighting, it was freezing without the heat on, and it pressed down on Keith and suffocated him until he fell asleep, curled into a ball on the floor with his back pressed into the wall and his comforter tucked to his nose, soaking up the tears that tracked silently down his cheeks. 

* * *

Hunk had been acting giddy all morning and it was starting to creep Pidge out. It wasn’t that she didn’t love when her friend was excited – he was impossible to _not_ love in any form really – but the fact that he wouldn’t tell her _what_ was making him so excited while also sneaking glances at her had Pidge worried.

Her first instinct was to suspect a prank. Lance often roped Hunk into those things when he was feeling restless, and Hunk was always a giveaway. But Pidge soon realized that Hunk’s giddiness was different from when a prank was involved. This time he just seemed almost nervous underneath the sparkle in his eye, and it was really starting to confuse Pidge more than anything. 

“Hunk, spit it out,” Pidge finally said over lunch, exasperated and tired of trying to figure it out on her own. “What are you so jumpy about today? And how am I involved?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hunk smiled sweetly over his lunch tray. Pidge noticed Shay at his elbow, pointedly watching as her boyfriend munched happily on his sandwich.

“Cut the crap,” Pidge said in monotone, leaning on her elbows and raising a practiced eyebrow in Hunk’s direction. “What’s going on? Has Lance roped you into another prank?”

“Hey!” Lance cried indignantly, looking over from where he and Keith had been hunched together on the other side of the lunch table. Pidge didn’t know what they were talking about but it seemed like something they didn’t want the others hearing. Pidge watched as Keith shifted until he was practically on Lance’s lap and tucked his head against Lance’s shoulder.

“Don’t sound so offended,” Pidge scoffed. “You’re always the mastermind behind the shit you and Hunk pull. What is it this time?”

“We don’t have anything planned!” Lance protested, arm wrapping subconsciously around Keith’s shoulders. Keith looked exhausted, the sleepless bruises under his eyes seeming more pronounced than usual. “Wait…do we?” 

“No, we don’t,” Hunk laughed. “But Pidge, are you busy after school today?”

Blinking owlishly at Hunk, Pidge shook her head, frowning in confusion when her answer made Hunk smile even brighter.

“Great! Come with me to the bakery I’m working at! I want you to meet my boss!” Hunk bounced a little in his seat and looked at Pidge with imploringly hopeful eyes. 

“Uh…why?”

Hunk scratched sheepishly at his neck and exchanged looks with Shay. “I may or may not have been talking about you to her. She says she would be interested in meeting you is all.” At Pidge’s hesitation, Hunk began pouting and leaned into the table to make sure Pidge could really see his big puppy dog eyes. “C’mon Pidge! Just one meeting! I won’t even make you stay longer than half an hour if you don’t want to.”

Gnawing at her lip, Pidge sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine…but I still don’t get why she wants to meet me.”

Hunk beamed and wiggled a little in his seat. “You’ll just have to come with me and find out!”

Pidge watched as Shay drew Hunk’s attention to her so she could coax the remainders of her boyfriend’s sandwich into his hands. Shay smiled sweetly as Hunk kissed her cheek before he resumed eating. Picking at her own food, Pidge spared another glance at Lance and Keith, relieved to see that Keith had started to doze off against Lance’s shoulder. The poor boy had looked dead on his feet this morning, especially with how much he had been shivering from the cold.

Reaching over, Pidge tapped Lance’s unoccupied shoulder lightly, pulling his attention away from his sleeping boyfriend.

“Is he okay?” Pidge asked quietly, concern knitting her brow.

Lance sighed softly and ran a hand absently through Keith’s hair before answering. “He isn’t telling me everything, but I think he had a rough night at home.”

Pursing her lips, Pidge shook her head and looked at Keith with concern. Her gaze flickered to the empty lunch table in front of him, noting that he was yet again not eating anything for lunch. Lance tended to share as much of his lunch as possible with Keith, but so far today, Pidge hadn’t seen Keith eat anything.

“Why does he still go back there?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Lance murmured sadly. “I’ve offered so many times to let him spend as long as he needs to at my place, but he never stays more than two nights a week. He’s mentioned a few times that he’s going to move out as soon as he’s legal, but I’m worried he won’t last that long like this.”

“Hey, we’ll all try to help him where we can,” Hunk spoke up from across the table, having tuned into the conversation. Shay tucked herself against Hunk’s side and nodded with a small smile.

Lance gave them a watery smile, his arm around Keith tightening a little. “Thanks guys.”

* * *

“Hunk!” A cheerful, accented voice called from behind the counter of the bakery. The chime of the bell on the door had alerted the woman to Pidge and Hunk’s entry. “You’re here! I just put a batch of pastries in the oven, if you could take over the counter I can go make sure they don’t get messed up.”

“Sure thing, Allura! Let me just clock in first.” Hunk pointed Pidge to a small table near the register before he dashed off deeper into the bakery. Allura, the woman checking out an elderly couple at the counter, spared Pidge a warm smile before finishing her task.

Pidge awkwardly slid into a seat at the table and dropped her bag to the floor. Looking around the little bakery shop, she couldn’t help but smile a little. It was painted with warm, bright colors and had colorful paintings hung up all over the walls. Everything about the bakery spoke of comfort and warmth, the wafting scent of baked goods only serving to heighten that feeling.

“Are you Pidge, by any chance?”

Looking up, Pidge found herself staring up at the kind face of Allura. Nodding, Pidge stood and shook the woman’s hand; her fingers were warm around Pidge’s. They sat down at the table and Allura smiled kindly as she got comfortable.

“What about your pastries?” Pidge asked curiously, remembering the tray Allura had mentioned to Hunk.

“Oh, my uncle is back in the kitchen so I asked him to keep an eye on them.” Allura waved a hand dismissively before she leaned forward a little. “So, Pidge, I’ve heard a bit about you from Hunk. But why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

Hesitating, Pidge shifted from side to side in her chair and gave Allura an odd look. “Why?”

“Well,” Allura began, suddenly looking awkward and uncertain. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but Hunk told me a little about what happened with your parents and I thought that maybe you might need someone to talk to. I recently lost my parents in an accident, and I know it’s not the same thing, but I thought maybe the similarities could help us understand each other.”

Pidge looked down at her shoes and shrugged a little, feeling exposed and uncomfortable at the mention of her parents. She wasn’t entirely sure why Hunk had told Allura that about her.

“My fiancé is overseas,” Allura spoke suddenly; Pidge’s gaze flickered up at her voice. “He’s been there for a little over two years now, and I miss him so much. We got engaged a couple months before he was deployed, and most people think it’s crazy, but I’m willing to wait for him to come back to get married. I’m just…upset that my parents won’t get to be there.” Allura paused and seemed to gather herself for a moment. “But they loved him just as much as I do. So I suppose it’s alright.”

“My brother passed away five years ago,” Pidge found herself saying suddenly. She wasn’t sure why she felt like it was okay to talk about, but maybe it was because Allura had started the conversation with her own story. Allura reached over the table and took one of Pidge’s hands in her own, giving it a supportive squeeze. They sat and talked for a while after that, Hunk eventually appearing at the register and working with any customers that came in. Allura and Pidge continued to talk away the time, discussing things from music to family to how Pidge was doing in school. By the time the conversation was slowly fading, Pidge felt like she could actually trust Allura, which was jarring to her after her recent experiences with adults.

The bell over the bakery door chimed softly and Allura glanced up, her face breaking into a large grin as she stood up. 

“Keith! It’s been a while! How are you doing?” 

“Keith?” Pidge questioned, turning around to find her friend standing just inside the entrance to the bakery. “What are you doing here? Did Hunk tell you we were here?”

“Hunk’s here?” Keith asked, seeming just as surprised to find Pidge here as she was to find him. “I just stopped by to see Allura.”

“You know Allura?”

“Yeah, she and Shiro are engaged.” 

Pidge felt like the world tipped sideways. Allura was suddenly kneeling in front of her, concern written into her features as Keith stood beside Pidge, his hands steadying her at her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked quickly, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned her face for something.

“I-I don’t—” Pidge tried. “Y-You said you and Shiro…?”

Allura looked confused until Keith winced and turned to her. “This is Matt’s younger sister.”

“Oh,” Allura gasped, small and shocked as her eyes melted from concerned to shocked pity. “Oh, I didn’t know. You never mentioned your brother’s name while we talked. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not…it’s not your fault,” Pidge choked out, feeling a little suffocated at the unexpected connection between Allura and her past. “I was just shocked.”

Allura pressed her lips together and nodded her thanks to Hunk when he brought Pidge a glass of water from somewhere in the back. She watched Pidge gather herself for a moment before reaching out and cautiously placing a hand on Pidge’s knee.

“I hope that this doesn’t affect our relationship. I know we just met, but I would like to keep getting to know you.”

Pidge hesitated for a moment, looking down quietly at the glass of water in her hands. She really liked Allura and the bakery and the warm atmosphere. It would be stupid to let the past ruin this, especially when Pidge had already forgiven Shiro even though he wasn’t truly at fault for what had happened. Steeling herself with a deep breath, Pidge looked up and gave Allura a small, reassuring smile.

“It won’t, I’d like to get to know you, too.”

* * *

“Oh, crap,” Lance stumbled, his books clattering noisily to the floor of the school hallway. The girl that he had bumped into took a single step backwards and proceeded to simply brush her hand over her shirt. Lance tried not to feel insulted by the gestured.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked, forcing a friendly smile onto his face as he stooped to pick up his books. “I didn’t see you there, that was my fault.”

Before the girl could answer, an arm wound around her shoulders and a tall, lean boy pressed into her side. His enviously beautiful hair was tugged into a loose bun and his features were sharp and calculating. Everything about him screamed athlete, popular, and probably a big ego. Lance vaguely recognized his face from around school, but he made a point of avoiding people like this guy, so he really had no idea who he was.

Lance immediately hated him. But he kept smiling as friendly as possible as he stood up from collecting his books.

“Are you alright, Acxa?” the kid asked, ignoring Lance entirely. The girl, Acxa, nodded, her eyes on Lance the whole time. She appeared emotionless and unaffected by the entire ordeal and Lance felt a little unsettled.

“Sorry again,” Lance grit out as he smiled forcefully to the pair. “If you’re alright, I’ll just be on my way.”

“Not so fast,” the guy grinned. “You’re Lance, right? The kid Kogane is dating?” 

Lance didn’t even bothering smiling back at the guy as he nodded stiffly. “Yes, I am. How do you know my boyfriend?”

“Oh, through the grapevine, as one does,” he answered smoothly, still leaning slightly against the girl beside him. “But you know, I can’t help but question your loyalty, you know?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Lance asked in monotone, abandoning all pretenses of niceties. This guy was officially a pretentious asshole that Lance wanted no part of. 

“Well, you’re bisexual right?”

Lance knew where this was going. And he was not about to deal with that stereotypical bullshit.

“Get the fuck away from me,” Lance all but growled, spinning on his heels to walk away. Before he had even taken a step though, a hand was clamped harshly down on his shoulder, preventing him from continuing to walk away.

“Now, now,” the guy’s sickly sweet voice crooned behind Lance. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“Let go of me,” Lance grit out, eyes glaring down the hallway and refusing to turn and look at this guy again.

“Lotor,” Acxa’s voice finally spoke up, smooth and calm. “There’s a teacher coming. Let him go.”

Lotor’s fingers tightened on Lance’s shoulders and for a moment Lance wondered if this Lotor kid was going to ignore Acxa and keep poking at Lance’s temper. But then his grip disappeared from Lance’s shoulder and Lance shrugged to disperse the tension that had built there. 

“Keith isn’t my friend,” Lotor’s voice spoke low and dangerous behind Lance. “But I can’t stand people like you who are so disgustingly disloyal.”

It took all of Lance’s self control to not whirl around and sock this Lotor guy in the face. Instead he took a deep, unsteady breath and kept his voice as even as possible.

“I don’t know who hurt you, but you very clearly know nothing about me or my boyfriend. So why don’t you just back the fuck off and worry about yourself, Lotor? Keith and I are just fine without your opinion.”

Without giving Lotor a chance to retaliate, Lance shrugged his shoulders into a more comfortable position once again and stalked off down the hallway. He needed to cool his head before going home, knowing that his mother would be able to tell right away if he was frustrated.

That Lotor guy needed to mind his own business.

* * *

Rubbing sleepily at his eyes, Keith stifled a yawn behind his hand and fished his house keys out of his pocket. Lance had offered up his bed to Keith again, promising that his family wouldn’t mind him staying over, but Keith had turned him down. He hated feeling like he was burdening Lance’s family. They already had Pidge staying over full time, and one extra mouth to feed just seemed like too much trouble for them in Keith’s eyes.

Shoving the key into the lock, Keith shivered against the fall chill of the evening. His shift at the garage had mercifully ended about an hour earlier than normal. Keith was hoping he could just catch up on the sleep he had been missing. His parents’ house was so cold all the time now because of the lack of electricity, and it made it so hard to sleep comfortably.

Shoving the door open, Keith immediately regretted not taking Lance up on his offer to spend the night. 

His parents’ voices echoed harshly down the hall from the kitchen, raised and cacophonous as they shouted over each other.

Quickly shutting the door, Keith locked it behind him and all but tiptoed down to the kitchen. He hid partially behind the doorway and peered around the corner, trying to determine just how bad it was this time. If the fight was bad enough, Keith would probably go hide in his closet for the night.

It was _bad._ Keith couldn’t even tell what his parents were yelling about because neither would let the other be heard. Keith’s mother had her back to the doorway he was hiding behind. Despite that, Keith could tell that she was just as much of a mess as she had been the last time she had come home. His dad was no better, face red and very clearly unshaven. He looked absolutely livid, hands waving and swinging as he and Keith’s mother leaned into each other’s space to try and yell louder.

Sighing heavily, Keith turned to leave so he could go hide upstairs and hope that they didn’t end up shouting all night. Keith just wanted to sleep.

Keith’s mother cried out suddenly, her shriek followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to the ground. Whirling back around, Keith could see that his dad had just hit his mother, one hand cupping her cheek as she glared up at her husband from the floor.

Suddenly Keith’s father spotted him peering around the doorway and immediately began advancing on Keith.

Keith wanted to run, he wanted to bolt for the front door and run as far away from this horrible house as he could. Or at least run upstairs and lock his door. But he was frozen to the spot. His tired mind was overwhelmed with adrenaline, his hands shaking horribly as he could only stand and watch his father get closer and closer.

“You!” His father’s voice boomed, making Keith jump. “You’re just as worthless as your slut of a mother! At least your brother is doing something, but you’re just here being an inconvenience! We never should have kept you!”

Keith barely saw his father’s hand rising, and then there was a sharp, stinging pain lacing across Keith’s cheek. His head slammed against the doorframe as Keith fell, knocking him sideways as he crumpled to the floor. Keith choked out a strangled noise of pain and distress as he curled into himself. His hands clutched at his head, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ears as pain radiated all over his head.

“You worthless, pathetic, excuse of a human!” Keith’s father shouted, punctuating each insult with a kick to Keith’s stomach and chest. Keith bit down on his sobs and cries, knowing that it would only aggravate his father’s anger further. He just had to let him get it out.

“You’re useless!” His father screamed, kicking again. “You and that sorry excuse of a twink you’re always with!”

Keith saw red.

His breath hitched and caught in his throat. He suddenly found the strength to surge past the pain that encompassed his body, lunging to his feet and shoving his father away from him. He gasped in pain at the movement and leaned heavily against the doorframe as his father stumbled back a few steps from the shove.

“Finally learned how to fight back?” His father shouted mockingly after a moment.

“Don’t you dare,” Keith gasped around the pain in his ribs. “Don’t you _dare_ talk about my boyfriend. He’s better than you’ll ever be!”

“You disgust me!” His father spit at him, stalking forward and punching Keith straight back to the floor. He gave Keith’s middle one more kick for good measure before he stormed off deeper into the house, muttering something about getting something better to beat some sense into his worthless excuse of a son.

Keith panicked, trying to push past the pain clouding his senses. Looking up as he shakily got to his feet, Keith met his mother’s eyes. She simply stared back at his with disappointment heavy in her eyes.

“I hate you,” Keith gasped, his eyes watering with tears. He stumbled off immediately after that, trying to get to the front door as quickly as possible. If his dad really had gone off to get something to beat Keith with, he needed to get out as soon as possible. His fingers fumbled with the lock he had secured on his way in. Keith blearily noticed that his fingers were smeared with red, but he was in too much pain to really think about it.

Finally getting the lock to turn, Keith tugged the door open and tripped outside into the freezing night air. Yanking the door shut behind him, Keith gasped and winced, seeing his breath billow into the air as a little cloud.

Stumbling away from the house, Keith sobbed painfully, the only thought he could manage being how badly he wanted to see Lance. Fumbling for his phone as he just continued to limp and stumble down the street away from his parents’ house, Keith tried desperately to stay focused and conscious through the pain.

Somehow he managed to pull up Lance’s contact and get the call going. He stared at the phone for a moment, not remembering to put it to his ear until it had already started ringing. Almost as soon as he placed the phone against his ear, Lance’s voice was cheerily calling his name.

“Keith! What’s up baby? I ran into this pretentious asshole this afternoon so I’m so happy you called. You always make me feel better!” Keith listened to Lance’s voice, some of the tension melting out of his limbs at the sweetness of his boyfriend’s tone. Stumbling to a stop, Keith sank down on the curb of the sidewalk and curled into himself in pain. A quiet sob left his lips and he blearily clutched the phone closer to his ear.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice was thick with concern now. “You there, baby? What’s wrong?”

“Lance,” Keith choked out around a heavy, painful sob. “Lance…I need you. Please.”

“Where are you?”

“I-I don’t know…not-not far from my parents’ house…I just had-“ Keith choked on his words and sobbed again. “I had to leave. Everything hurts.”

“I’m on my way,” Lance promised quickly, Keith hearing him moving around in the background of their call. “I’ll stay on the phone with you, I’m coming in Mama’s car so I’ll be there soon. Just hang on for me, okay?”

“L-Lance…” Keith sobbed. “M-My dad…h-he—“

“It’s okay, baby,” Lance said as comfortingly as possible. “I’m gonna come get you and no one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise.”


	4. Warm Me Up And Breathe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith!” Lance’s voice reached Keith’s ears, prompting him to draw his head up to look at his boyfriend. Collapsing in front of Keith, Lance’s hands gently cupped his face. His fingers were warm and soft against the smarting pain from where Keith’s father had hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer to get up than I had originally planned, but here it is! One more chapter to go and then this piece is done. Thank you all for sticking with me for so long.

It had barely been twenty minutes when a familiar looking minivan screeched to a stop just down the street from Keith’s hunched figure. Keith let his phone slip from his numb fingers and tried not to cry too loudly. The driver’s door was flung open, the interior lights casting an abrupt glow in a small ring around the car. Keith squinted against the headlights aimed at him and curled further into himself, sobbing quietly and painfully.

“ _Keith!_ ” Lance’s voice reached Keith’s ears, prompting him to draw his head up to look at his boyfriend. Collapsing in front of Keith, Lance’s hands gently cupped his face. His fingers were warm and soft against the smarting pain from where Keith’s father had hit him.

“I ca-an’t go ba-ck there…” Keith sobbed, eyes desperately searching Lance’s face. He had never hurt this much before.

“You will _never_ have to go back there if I have anything to say about it,” Lance said firmly, eyes smoldering as he took in the damage littering Keith’s body. It was then that Lance noticed Keith’s bloodstained fingers. Sucking in a sharp breath, Lance gently gripped Keith’s shoulders and tried to catch his watery eyes.

“Is that your blood? Where are you bleeding, baby?”

“H-Head,” Keith mumbled, tears running down his cheeks even though he had lost the energy to keep sobbing.

“Shit,” Lance cursed under his breath. “I didn’t know it was this bad…I’m going to have to take you to the hospital, okay?”

“C-Can’t,” Keith panicked, fingers weakly curling into Lance’s jacket. “I can’t afford i-it.”

Lance shook his head and moved to help Keith get his backpack off his back. Keith hadn’t even realized that he still had it on from school and work. He winced and tried not to cry out as the movement jostled his sore ribs.

“You’re wallet is in here, right? Do you still have that health insurance card from your mom’s workplace? You’re not eighteen yet so you’re still covered under it since the garage can’t give you health insurance. I know she doesn’t go to work often, but she’s still technically employed, yeah?”

“I t-think so,” Keith choked out, slumping with the effort of staying conscious and upright.

“This should work then. And if it doesn’t, we’ll think of something. But baby, I can’t take care of you like this. You’re really badly hurt, so I have to take you there, okay? I’m going to help you into the car and I just need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that?”

“Mhmm,” Keith hummed sleepily. He wasn’t entirely sure he remembered all of Lance’s instructions, but he sounded worried so Keith wanted to do his best so Lance wouldn’t be upset.

The short trip to the van was painful for Keith, the pain in his ribs flaring uncomfortably and the throbbing in his head getting worse from standing up. He just wanted to go to Lance’s house and lay down for a really long time – with Lance of course.

Once Lance had gotten Keith into the passenger seat and buckled in securely, he rushed over to the driver’s side and slid in as quickly as possible. He buckled his own belt as he was pulling back onto the street to head to the hospital. Lance was probably going to have to break a few traffic laws to get there as fast as possible, but one glance at Keith beside him made it worth it.

“Hang on, Keith,” Lance said, trying to keep his voice steady. Speeding down the neighborhood street, Lance barely glanced left and right before swinging the van out onto the main road. “Just stay awake, yeah? Stay with me.”

“Lance?” Keith’s voice was quiet but Lance reached one hand out to brush his fingers carefully down Keith’s arm, acknowledging that he heard him.

“What is it, baby? Keep talking to me.”

“I told…told my mom that…” Keith paused for a few long moments and Lance was worried that Keith might have finally fallen unconscious. He couldn’t risk taking his eyes off the road with how fast he was going, so Lance just pressed down on the gas harder. Thankfully, it was just late enough that there was virtually no traffic.

“I told her I hated her,” Keith finally spoke, his voice a pained whisper from beside Lance.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Lance choked out, his heart breaking as he listened to his boyfriend’s labored breathing. He didn’t need Keith to tell him that Keith’s father had banged up his ribs. Lance just hoped that none of Keith’s ribs were broken.

“I-I never…never said that…before,” Keith continued. Lance cursed under his breath as the traffic light in front of him turned red. He tried to avoid slamming the breaks for Keith’s sake, hoping that by the time he was under the light, it would be green again. Sure enough, the moment he got to the line, the light changed, allowing Lance to speed up again.

“I’m so proud of you, Keith,” Lance murmured. “I know that was probably so hard for you, but I’m so proud you stood up to them. Just hang on for a little longer and I promise we’ll get you patched up, okay?”

Keith hummed softly, barely there to the point that Lance almost missed the noise.

“Keith? You still with me, baby?” Lance tried to keep his voice steady, but he sounded strained and terrified even to his own ears.

There was no answer. Lance felt himself tear up and he clenched his jaw as he urged the van to go faster still.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Lance sobbed. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. We’re almost there. You’ve been so brave, baby. I love you, I love you and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again, I promise.”

Lance continued to babble any comforting thought he could even though he knew Keith was unable to hear him. The only reassurance he had were the shallow puffs he could hear from Keith breathing beside him. Pulling rather precariously around the bend into the hospital parking lot, Lance parked messily near the emergency room entrance and leapt out of the car, barely remembering to grab the keys as he did.

Rushing around to the other side of the van, Lance ripped open Keith’s door and managed to scoop Keith into his arms, remembering to be careful of his head. Lance choked back a sob when Keith’s head lolled listlessly against his shoulder. Kicking the door shut, Lance turned and rushed straight into the hospital.

“Help! Please, someone help us!” Lance’s desperate shouting drew the attention of the handful of nurses sitting behind the desks. They all appeared startled once they registered Keith’s battered form in Lance’s arms. The few people sitting around waiting to be seen were watching with mixed expressions of shock and worried curiosity that made Lance’s skin itch. He didn’t want people to see Keith like this, it wasn’t fair to him, but this was the only guaranteed way to get help fast.

A pair of nurses rushed up with a gurney they had produced from somewhere and helped Lance get Keith onto it.

“H-He hurt his head, it’s bleeding. Please, please you have to help him.”

The two nurses rushed off and Lance made to follow them, hand gripping the edge of Keith’s gurney. A third nurse joined them, a clipboard in hand as she rushed after them.

Once they reached a set of doors, the nurse with the clipboard gently grabbed Lance’s arm holding the gurney and stopped him from following. Lance whirled to face her, desperation and an adrenaline induced sense of protection surging through him. The nurse seemed to sense how tense he was and she released his arm, her expression calm and understanding.

“Your friend—” 

“Boyfriend,” Lance choked out. “He’s my boyfriend. Please, please help him.”

The nurse nodded as her expression pinched with distress. “Your boyfriend is being taken to the examination area so we can determine how serious his injuries are. We will keep you as updated as possible as to what kind of treatment he needs. But for now, I need to ask you some questions. Is that alright, or do you need some time?”

“I—” Lance tried, stopping when he felt overwhelmed. He didn’t want to lose Keith, he couldn’t. But he needed to focus on something else so he could calm down and be there for Keith. “No, I can do it now.”

The nurse nodded and led him to a set of chairs against one side of the hallway. She asked him for generic information like Keith’s age and if he had any allergies or was taking medication. Lance was okay for that, offering up as much as he knew; handing over the health insurance card he had pulled from Keith’s wallet earlier. But then she asked him if Lance knew how Keith had ended up like this.

Lance’s jaw tightened and he tired to push down the urge to punch a wall. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened without Keith’s permission. Lance took a steadying breath and shook his head.

“He called me…and he was trying to tell me but he was so distressed and in so much pain it was hard to understand him. I managed to figure out where he was and went to pick him up so I could bring him here.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. 

The nurse nodded and jotted down some notes on her clipboard. Glancing up towards the nurse’s station across the hall, she stood and gestured for Lance to follow her.

Arriving at the station, the nurse passed the clipboard to one of the nurses and explained where the patient with this information was. She glanced at Lance before turning to a kind looking nurse sitting behind a computer.

“Aaron?” The nurse looked up. “Do you think you could take Keith’s boyfriend here to the proper waiting area? I would take him, but I have to get back to another patient.”

“Sure,” the nurse smiled kindly at both her and Lance. He stood and moved around the station as the nurse that had been with Lance nodded to them both before rushing off.

“Sorry if she seemed flustered, but that’s Leah and she really is a great nurse,” Aaron said, walking down the hall with Lance following him.

“No, she was really nice. I understand this must be a lot since it throws everything off.”

“You don’t have to worry about anything like that,” Aaron reassured gently. “We’re here for things like this that happen. Keith will be okay, we won’t let anything get worse if we can help it.”

“He’s been through a lot…” Lance said in a strained voice. “I don’t want him to suffer through anything else.”

Aaron laid a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder and seemed to understand the tightly pinched skin under Lance’s eyes and distressed tension in his shoulders. They arrived in a small waiting room, much less populated than the main waiting room. Lance appreciated the quiet provided here and he sagged a little as he sat in a chair.

“Someone will come find you once Keith’s been examined and direct you to another waiting room depending on what kind of treatment he needs,” Aaron explained. “Leah made sure that the insurance can be dealt with after Keith has been settled into a room so you won’t have to worry about that for now.”

“Thank you,” Lance managed not to breakdown. “Thank you so much.”

Aaron gave Lance’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and bid him farewell. Lance dropped his head into his hands as Aaron walked away, twisting his fingers into his hair and tugging harshly to try and ground himself. Straightening up after a moment, Lance puffed out a hitching breath when he noticed the blood stains smearing his jacket and fingers.

“S-Shit,” Lance hiccupped. Fumbling with his phone, Lance blindly dialed home and dashed harshly at the tears dripping down his cheeks as the line rang.

_“Hello? Lance?”_

“Mama,” Lance sobbed, unable to keep his composure any longer. “Mama, I’m at the hospital. It’s Keith. H-He’s hurt and I d-d-don’t know how badly.”

_“Oh mi hijo,”_ Lance’s mother breathed. _“I’ll bring Pidge, and we’ll meet you there, okay?”_

“Okay,” Lanced sniffled. “But Mama, su padre lo lastimó…” Lance slipped into the familiar language he had grown up with, mostly so the few people around him wouldn’t be able to understand. His mother would know what he meant, but he didn’t want others to know what Keith had gone through.

_“Oh…”_ his mother’s voice was soft but Lance could hear the sympathy and the anger there, even from over the phone. _“Don’t worry; we’ll work things out. We’ll be there soon.”_

“Okay. Thank you mama. I love you.” Lance hung up once his mother confirmed that she would be coming with Pidge, leaving him in the relative silence of the internal hospital waiting room. He wanted nothing more than to go right back to Keith’s parents’ house and throttle both his mother and his father. But Lance knew that Keith wouldn’t want that, and Lance wanted to be here for the moment he would be allowed to sit with Keith.

“Please be okay…” Lance mumbled into his hands as he dropped his head into his hands. “Please…” 

* * *

Hunk stood behind the counter, wiping down the surface as best as possible, his shift was almost over at the bakery. Shay had dropped by earlier and was leaning against the counter at the other end, happily chatting with Allura. They had grown up in the same neighborhood, and though there was a notable age gap between them, their families were friends. Hunk owed Shay for this job, since she had introduced him to Allura in the first place. Smiling as he tossed the rag in the dirty bin under the counter, Hunk wiped his hands on his apron and wandered down to the other two.

“So practice is going well, then?” Allura was asking, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as she spoke to Shay.

“Yeah! Now that coach has lightened up a bit, things are going better.” Shay beamed at Hunk when he walked over, her hands also cradling a mug of something warm. “We still aren’t where we used to be before, but definitely better now.”

“That’s great!” Allura beamed happily. “I’ll have to come by one of your games sometime. Let me know when the next one is.” At Shay’s delighted agreement, Allura turned to Hunk and smiled. “How are your parents doing?”

“They’re good,” Hunk promised. He had told Allura a little about his situation, and she had also heard part of it from Shay, too. “This definitely helps, and they’ve been getting better at saving where they can. Mom’s also getting a raise soon, apparently. So things are looking up.”

Shay leaned over the counter and kissed Hunk’s cheek happily. Hunk beamed, reaching for his phone in his pocket as it started to ring. The other two continued to chat cheerfully beside him as he glanced down at the screen.

_Lance_.

Pressing the green button to accept the call, Hunk answered easily, “Hey buddy, what’s up? If it’s homework stuff, I’m almost done my shift at work and then we can hang out and—”

A quiet sob interrupted him from the other end.

“Lance?” The worry in his voice drew Shay and Allura’s attention, their brows furrowing with identical worry. Shay leaned a little closer over the countertop as Allura took a step closer to Hunk. His fingers tightened around his phone, pressing it closer to his ear as worry pulsed through his veins.

“What happened? Lance, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

_“Hunk…it’s Keith. We’re at the hospital.”_

“Why? Actually no. I’ll be there soon, so tell me when I get there, okay? Is it okay if I bring Shay and Allura?”

_“Y-Yeah…but I don’t think you’ll all be allowed to see him.”_

“That’s fine,” Hunk promised instantly. “We just want to be there for you. We’ll be there soon.”

_“Thank you, buddy. I’ll see you soon.”_ Lance sounded choked up and Hunk felt his heart constrict as he promised his friend yet again that they would be there soon before he hung up. Shay and Allura were looking at him expectantly. Allura had never met Lance, but she had heard about him through Keith and Hunk, so she was worried all the same.

“Lance is at the hospital,” Hunk managed, trembling fingers reaching behind himself to shakily untie the string of his apron. “He said it’s Keith, he had to take him there. I don’t know why yet, but Allura— ”

“Say no more,” Allura cut him off, creases of distress framing her eyes. It was then that it hit Hunk; Keith was her fiancée’s younger brother. She cared about Keith as much as she cared about Shiro. “I’ll drive us there. Let’s just close up since Coran’s already left for the day and head out.”

“Thank you so much, Allura,” Hunk said sincerely. He and Shay helped Allura finish locking up the bakery before they all piled into Allura’s car and sped off towards the hospital just outside of town. Hunk kept his phone clutched firmly in one hand as they drove, glancing at it every few seconds just in case Lance called him back again with any news. His heart was in his throat, Hunk finding it hard to swallow as he sent up a desperate pray to whoever was listening that his friend would be okay.

* * *

Lance hung up with Hunk as his mother and Pidge came dashing around the corner at the end of the corridor. He glanced in their direction at the sound of their feet rushing towards him, his hands trembling and still smeared with Keith’s blood. Lance hadn’t been able to summon the strength to force his legs to carry him to the bathroom to clean up. He was scared to leave his vigil chair, lest he miss some scrap of news on Keith’s condition.

“Mi hijo,” Lance’s mother breathed out as she gathered him into her embrace. Lance went pliant against his mother’s shoulder and cried in earnest as he tucked his face into her warm skin there. He hadn’t allowed himself to fully breakdown until that moment and it felt like the greatest relief to just _cry._

“It’s going to be okay,” Lance’s mother was whispering to him gently, her one hand rubbing up and down his back while the other threaded carefully through Lance’s distressed hair, smoothing it out carefully. He had been tugging and twisting at his hair nervously before his mother and Pidge showed up.

“H-How long has he been in there?” Pidge asked softly from beside Lance. Her fingers were twisting together anxiously, lower lip bitten between her teeth as she glanced between Lance and the silent doors hiding Keith behind them. 

“I-I don’t know…” Lance sniffed, pulling back a little from his mother and trying to regain some composure. “How long has it been since I called you, mama?”

“About twenty minutes,” she answered quietly. “You left the house almost forty minutes ago.”

“God,” Lance huffed out. It hadn’t even been an hour and yet Lance felt like this was the longest night of his life. He started to tear up again; the telltale stinging of his eyes prickling uncomfortably as Lance hiccupped pathetically and buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide.

He could feel his mother’s arm snake around his shoulders, pulling him into her side and her other hand moving to gently run through his hair. She whispered comforting words in his ear that Lance was too distressed to really process. He wanted to see Keith and he wanted to go home; he didn’t want to be here.

Lance felt something tugging at his hands and he looked up with watery eyes, his vision a little blurry. Pidge was standing in front of him, her little hands pulling carefully at his shirt’s sleeves.

“What-?”

“You need to clean yourself up a little. There’s a single stall just down there, so I’ll come with you and help.”

“But…but what if they-?”

“Your mom will be right here, in case they come out with news. We won’t be too long, I promise. But…honestly you look a little scary with all that blood on your hands and face.”

Glancing down at his hands again, Lance sniffled quietly and realized that the smears of Keith’s blood all over him did seem a little frightening. He pushed out a shaky breath and let Pidge help him up to his feet. She led him down the hall after promising his mother that they would be back soon and that she would take care of Lance.

Pidge made sure to lock the door to the single stall once they were inside, and then guided Lance to the sink, her hands gentle yet meticulous as she helped Lance scrub away at the drying blood on his hands. The only sounds in the tiny bathroom were the faint whisper of the running water and their breathing. Lance occasionally sniffed, but they were quiet.

“It was his dad, wasn’t it?” Pidge’s voice spoke softly, breaking the silence between them as she shut off the sink. A soaked paper towel was wadded up in her hand, moving to rub away at the blood he had smeared on his face in his worried fidgeting. She had him sit on the closed toilet lid so she could more easily reach his face.

Lance didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke, so he settled on nodding minutely. Pidge caught it, despite the small movement, and her gaze hardened as she continued to wipe away the blood.

“That bastard,” Pidge muttered under her breath, finally tossing away the paper towel. “I hope he suffers for what he did to Keith. How bad was it?”

“He—” Lance choked and covered his mouth with his hand and tried to compose himself enough to talk.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Pidge consoled him quickly. “That was insensitive. Let’s just go back to your mom and see if there’s any news.”

“No, I…” Lance hiccuped and took a shaky breath. “I need to talk about it at least once.” Looking up at Pidge, he caught her giving him a look he couldn’t exactly decipher, but she didn’t stop him when he continued to talk. “I think he has a concussion.”

“What?” Pidge looked ready to storm off and murder Keith’s father.

“I-I don’t know for sure…but he seemed really out of it when I picked him up and his head was bleeding,” Lance had to pause for a moment, his eyes closing as he tried to push away the horrible image of Keith limp and suffering in his arms. He wanted to punch Keith’s father in the face.

“I think he also has a broken rib…and probably a bunch of bruising and—”

“Lance,” Pidge said quietly as his voice broke and he started to tear up again. “We’ll be here for him and protect him as much as we can.”

Lance started crying a little harder, leaning into Pidge as she hugged him against her shoulder, patting his back in an effort to comfort and calm him. They stayed there for a few more moments before Lance managed to compose himself enough to feel comfortable walking back to sit with his mother. The only thing that gave him the strength to get back to that horrible plastic chair outside the room they had taken Keith into was his need to know if he could see his boyfriend yet. 

When they returned to their little waiting area, Hunk, Allura, and Shay were sitting there with Mrs. McClain. The second Hunk saw Lance, he launched up from his chair and rushed to engulf his best friend in a warm bear hug. Lance melted into his friend’s hug, forcing himself not to cry again. Allura and Shay came up to the trio, Allura introducing herself to Lance and looking like she had already been crying, her lower lip obviously red and swollen from being worried between her teeth. Lance glanced down at his phone, checking the time, and was startled to realize that they had been here for nearing two hours now. He and Pidge had been in the bathroom a lot longer than he realized and they were standing around talking for a while too.

Almost as soon as they all sat down again with Lance’s mother, a doctor slipped out of the back room, calling for the people here for Keith.

Stumbling to his feet, Lance rushed over to the doctor and looked at her pleadingly. “Is he okay?”

“We had to stabilize him and put him on oxygen, only because we weren’t sure if his head injury combined with the broken rib would hinder him. He lost quite a bit of blood from that head wound, but like I said, we stabilized him. He’s on a saline drip now; some of his blood work came back quickly enough for us to realize he’s slightly malnourished. He also has some bruising on his abdomen, but thankfully that all appears to be superficial damage. He’s probably going to be confused and out of it when he wakes up. We can’t judge accurately if he has a concussion or not until he wakes up. For now, we’ll allow one person in the room until he wakes up and go from there.”

“Thank you,” Lance choked out. “Thank you so much. Where is he?”

“You’re his…boyfriend?” The doctor asked, checking the sheet on her clipboard. “You brought him into the hospital tonight, right?”

“Yes, I am and yes I did,” Lance answered, picking at his fingers anxiously as he waited for her to tell him where to go to be with Keith.

“I understand you’re anxious to see him, but I see here that you did not provide much information on how Keith ended up in this condition. Are you sure you don’t have any ideas?”

Lance hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Allura, not sure on how much she knew about Keith’s home life. Just because she was engaged to Shiro didn’t mean she knew everything the brothers went through. Besides, this wasn’t Lance’s information to share.

“I…I think I know,” he confessed. “But…it’s not exactly something I can share without Keith’s permission.”

The doctor seemed to understand this, and she nodded. “All I’ll say is that if he is experiencing any sort of dangerous home situation or a dangerous situation outside of the home, I would strongly recommend filing a police report. We can discuss this further once he wakes up.”

Lance nodded, thanking the doctor once she directed him down a few doors to the recovery room they had taken Keith to. Doing his best not to sprint, Lance rushed off to the right room and slipped inside. It was only once he had slipped inside the room that Lance realized he didn’t say anything to his mother or friends before running off. He felt guilty for a moment until his gaze landed on Keith lying in the large hospital bed.

Breath catching in his throat, Lance moved to Keith’s side, all thoughts of guilt about his friends gone, replaced with the guilt of not protecting his boyfriend better. Tugging a chair over to the side of Keith’s bed, Lance sat down and scooped his boyfriend’s limp hand into his own. Keith’s fingers were cold against Lance’s palm, but he gave Keith’s hand a gentle squeeze and started to rub his thumb back and forth over Keith’s knuckles.

“Keith,” Lance murmured in a choked up voice, pressing his lips against the back of Keith’s hand. “I’m so, so sorry this happened to you. Please…you have to be okay.”

Lance dropped his head down onto the bed beside Keith, adjusting his grip on Keith’s arm so that they were both hopefully comfortable. He absently fiddled with Keith’s fingers as he lay there, staring up at Keith’s sleeping, bruised and pale face as he did.

He must have drifted off at some point without realizing it because suddenly Lance was blinking open his eyes to the soft background murmur of whispered conversations somewhere else in the room. Sitting up, Lance’s back popped with the movement after having been in one position for a while. Looking around, Lance found his mother and Allura sitting in a set of chairs by the window, conversing quietly while Pidge and Hunk sat on the floor against the wall sleeping. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Lance remembered that Shay had been among the others earlier, but had probably left earlier since it was approaching four in the morning.

Lance turned to look at Keith laying quietly in his hospital bed, still asleep and looking a little less pale than he had earlier. Allura and Lance’s mother glanced his way and offered him little smiles before they continued talking to one another quietly. Looking out the window, Lance could see that it was still dark out, the only light from outside coming from the low hanging moon and the nearby streetlights.

Keith’s hand was warm now as it remained grasped in Lance’s, and suddenly Keith’s grip around Lance’s hand went from limp to suddenly squeezing his fingers gently.

With how quickly Lance whipped his head around, he was surprised nothing cracked. Keith’s eyes were open, staring blearily up at Lance with confusion clear in his expression.

“Keith?” Lance whispered in awe. “Hey. Hey, hey, Keith. Baby, can you hear me?” Lance was up, leaning over his boyfriend and holding his hand firmly with one and the other gently cupping Keith’s cheek. Lance’s mother and Allura were up and on the other side of Keith’s bed.

Keith managed a very small nod, eyes remaining glued to Lance’s face. He hadn’t tried to speak yet, and Lanced guessed he was still trying to process and catch up with where he was. After all, he had passed out in the car on the way here, on top of possibly having a bit of a concussion.

“Okay, Keith,” Lance said, smiling soft and reassuring down at his boyfriend. “You’re in the hospital right now. You have quite a few injuries, but you’re going to be okay. Just focus on resting for now, yeah?”

Keith managed a little nod again, fingers tightening again around Lance’s. He opened his mouth and managed a soft, hoarse sounding, “okay,” before he glanced at the water next to the bed. Lance, understanding immediately, grabbed a bottle and helped Keith take a few small sips. It was clear though, that he had been hit by another dose of medicine because he quickly dropped back off to sleep within a few minutes.

“Are you okay, mi hijo?” Lance’s mother asked quietly from across Keith’s bed.

Lance nodded and smiled at his mother and Allura, sitting back down in his chair, fingers still entwined with Keith’s.

“I’m okay, mama,” he promised, voice sounding a little strained. “Just…it’s hard knowing that I can’t really do much of anything to make this better or easier for him.”

“But you did _something_ for him, and that’s what probably saved him tonight,” Allura smiled at Lance and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “He’s never really had someone like you in his life. From what I got from Shiro, neither of them were really supported by their parents. So you coming into his life was probably one of the best things to ever happen to him.”

Lance could feel himself tearing up, but he sniffled and offered Allura a watery smile. “Thank you, Allura,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for him. I just feel bad that I couldn’t protect him more.”

“You couldn’t have protected him from this, Lance,” his mother reassured him gently. “His parents are the ones at fault, and you weren’t at his house, so this isn’t on you.”

Lance nodded silently and rubbed at his eyes. His mother smiled gently with understanding and urged him to rest while she and Allura went to find a doctor and tell them that Keith had woken up and was resting again. As the two of them left the room, Lance settled against the side of Keith’s bed again, glancing gratefully at the sleeping Pidge and Hunk. Their presence was reassuring to Lance, and he was certain that once Keith actually was conscious, he would be glad to see them too.

“We’ll keep you safe, Keith,” Lance murmured his promise into Keith’s knuckles as he kissed his boyfriend’s hand. Laying his head down again, Lance suppressed a yawn before slowly drifting off to sleep again.


	5. Breath For Daydreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lance,” Keith sighed fondly, moving around and kissing his cheek. “I’ve been out of the hospital for almost a month now. Everything is fine, okay? I can move a few boxes into our apartment.”
> 
> “Say that again,” Lance murmured, grinning against Keith’s cheek as he pressed another kiss there. “Our apartment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished!!! Wow!!! Thank you all for bearing with me and happy belated season five!!

“Pidge!” Allura called cheerfully from behind the counter of the bakery. Her cheek had a small smudge of flour standing in stark contrast to her darker skin. There was a traditional cup of coffee standing expectantly by the cash register, waiting for Pidge to claim it. She offered a cheerful smile to Allura as she scooped up the warm mug.

“Hey, Allura,” Pidge greeted. “How’s business today?”

“Great! People seem to really be interested in getting pastries today for some reason,” Allura said as she restocked a display of muffins. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Pidge grabbed the cup of coffee, smiling over the counter at Allura and gesturing to the display case as she did. Allura gave her a look and chuckled quietly as she reached into the case to grab one of the muffins she had just put in. Pidge smiled happily and took the muffin with thanks.

Wandering over to a table near the window of the shop, Pidge settled down with her coffee and muffin and waited for Allura to join her. This had become a little bit of a tradition for the two of them over the past two weeks. Ever since the incident with Keith ending up in the hospital, Pidge and Allura found comfort in meeting at the café after Pidge was done with school and just talking. It gave Allura the chance to be updated on Keith’s condition, as he was staying at the McClain’s house until he recovered, and gave Pidge a chance to just talk to Allura comfortably.

This time was no different, Allura joining Pidge after she had finished with restocking the display case at the counter. She had her own mug of coffee nestled between her hands as she and Pidge lapsed comfortably in and out of conversation. It was during one of the lulls that Allura looked up at Pidge and seemed to be weighing something before she began speaking.

“Pidge,” Allura started, sounding hesitant. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I have a question, I suppose is more accurate.”

Suddenly nervous, Pidge swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and felt her grip tighten around the coffee mug as she stared at Allura’s fidgeting hands. Nervously tapping her foot against the floor, Pidge gestured to Allura to continue. 

“What is it?” Pidge’s voice betrayed her nervousness, and she cursed at herself silently.

“Well,” Allura began hesitantly. “You don’t have to answer now, and you don’t have to feel obligated to give me the answer I want, but I just wanted to ask and—“

“Allura,” Pidge cut her off. “What is it?”

“How would you feel about being adopted? By me?”

Pidge blinked, shock coursing through her in a sudden rush.

“What?”

“I want to adopt you,” Allura said again, still looking nervous but sounding a little surer of herself the second time she stated it. “If it’s alright with you, and if you want that, I would be willing to adopt you. You could move in and finish high school and go to college and have a place to come back to.”

“Are…Are you serious?” Pidge whispered in awe. “You’re not kidding?”

“Of course I’m not kidding!” Allura sounded surprised. “Why would I kid about this? This all depends on if you want to do this, of course. But the choice is yours.”

Pidge’s mind was racing, her thoughts slowly turning hopeful at the thought of being somewhere she knew she could always go back to, to not have to leave her friends behind, the town she had grown up in. The thought of absolutely being able to go through college – it was all so surreal that she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know if this was real or not.

But a sudden thought stopped her, grounding her.

“What…what about Shiro? Does he know? Is he okay with this?” Pidge’s voice was small, scared and unsure. She hadn’t seen Shiro since the funeral all those years ago. She had heard sporadic updates on what he was doing through Keith, but she hadn’t actually seen the man face to face. If she allowed Allura to adopt her, then she was going to be living with Shiro as well.

Allura’s eyes softened with understanding as she reached across the little table and grabbed one of Pidge’s hands. She rubbed her thumb over the back of Pidge’s knuckles and offered her a tiny smile.

“He and I talked about this over the phone, and he totally supports it. He wants you to be comfortable and safe, even if that means you turn down our offer. Of course, he wouldn’t be there for a while if you were to move in this month. His tour doesn’t end until next year. But it would give you time to settle in and get comfortable with a new routine.”

Pidge didn’t know what to say, just sitting there and staring down at the cup of coffee sitting in front of her. Though it had been in front of her for a while, it was still warm enough that thin tendrils of steam were curling lazily from inside the cup. This was everything Pidge could have ever asked for after her parents had disowned her…so why was she hesitating?

“I-I want to…I want to say yes,” Pidge began, her voice soft. “But I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Allura asked gently, eyes soft and concerned.

“My parents…” Pidge began. “If they hear about this, I don’t know how they’ll react. They can’t really do anything at this point, since they legally disowned me. But I’m scared that they’re just controlling enough to try and take me back. And I won’t even have a choice in the matter because I’m not eighteen yet.”

“I won’t let them take you back,” Allura’s voice was firm, surprising Pidge into looking up from her coffee. Allura’s eyes were steely, as if she was already facing down Pidge’s parents. The look in her eyes was enough to convince Pidge that Allura meant business, and wouldn’t just sit by and let Pidge’s fate be left to chance.

“W-What if—” Pidge started to protest weakly, still fearful of her parents trying to ruin her life.

“They will _not_ get near you if I have anything to say about it,” Allura swore. “Which I do. So, if you are alright with it, I would like to legally adopt you. I’ve already looked into the paperwork so it can be done as quickly as possible if you would like.”

Pidge looked back down at her coffee. She knew that she should take time to think this decision over, to think about the way it could and would affect her life. But she just couldn’t bear the thought of passing on something like this. Even if it meant facing Shiro for the first time since losing Matt, Pidge was more than willing to. It surprised her, but she found that she was okay with that idea.

“I would be honored if you adopted me, Allura,” she answered softly. And really, Allura’s answering smile was all the confirmation Pidge needed to know that she had already made the right choice. 

* * *

“Keith!” Lance called, sounding alarmed as he rushed over to his boyfriend. Reaching out, he scooped the moving box out of Keith’s hands and glared at him with worry from overtop the box.

“I told you not to carry stuff like this! You shouldn’t even be moving around this much yet. What if you hurt yourself again? Did you take your pain medication yet?”

“Lance,” Keith sighed fondly, moving around and kissing his cheek. “I’ve been out of the hospital for almost a month now. Everything is fine, okay? I can move a few boxes into our apartment.”

Lance tried to keep frowning but he couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. He set the box down inside the doorway and moved to wrap his arms around Keith’s waist, pressing a series of little kisses to Keith’s cheeks. Keith smiled and leaned into Lance’s weight happily.

“Say that again,” Lance murmured, grinning against Keith’s cheek as he pressed another kiss there. “ _Our_ apartment.”

Keith beamed, something warm fluttering happily in his stomach as he chuckled. Pressing his face into Lance’s shoulder, Keith hummed happily against his boyfriend’s shirt, breathing in the scent of what he now could _finally_ call home. Lance’s arms around his waist and his chest against his face was everything he needed.

“Yeah,” Keith whispered against Lance. “It’s our apartment.”

They stood there, wrapped up in each other for another few moments, before Lance pulled away and left a kiss on Keith’s cheek as he did. Keith pouted up at Lance, wondering why they had to pull apart when they had all the time in the world now to just hold each other.

“Mama is probably almost here with the next trunk full of boxes, babe,” Lance laughed, seeing Keith’s pouty expression. He cupped Keith’s cheeks and gave them a little squeeze for his own indulgence. “We should be ready to help her, which means getting these boxes sorted.” 

“Fine,” Keith huffed, releasing Lance from his grip. But not before he let his hands travel down to Lance’s ass, leaving a firm squeeze there before sauntering off to the pile of boxes marked ‘kitchen’. Lance called out shocked protests from the front door, whining about how much of a tease Keith was and how he was going to get it later.

Waving away his boyfriend’s threats, Keith started to shift through the boxes in front of him. They already had more then enough stuff in Keith’s opinion; so he was surprised that Lance’s mother was bringing them even _more_. Pulling out a little stack of plates, Keith pulled away the bubble wrap and started putting the dishes away in the cabinets.

He had had his eye on this place for months, having found it during his numerous searches as he prepared for his eighteenth birthday. The landlord had been nice enough to allow Keith to put a hold on the place after he explained in bare minimum detail that his living situation with his parents was not good. Once she was assured that he had the money for the down payment and could afford the monthly rent, the place was practically his. Her allowing them to move in on the day of his birthday was basically a gift from the heavens in Keith’s opinion.

Lance had been talking about doing something for Keith’s birthday before the hospital incident happened. He hadn’t brought it up since then, focusing more on making sure Keith was recovering. In all honesty, this was all Keith needed right now, so he didn’t mind not having some fancy celebration. If he had this tiny, slightly worn out apartment and Lance, that was enough.

“Keith!” Lance’s voice called from outside. “Mama’s on her way up with some stuff so be ready to help!”

“Got it!” Keith shouted back, figuring he had enough time to finish unpacking this one box before Mrs. McClain got to them. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. The dishes were in the cabinet, which meant that they were officially (partially) moved in. Smiling to himself, Keith dusted off his hands on his jeans as he wandered out into their tiny living room to meet Lance’s mother and help her with the boxes.

“Surprise!” A sudden chorus of voices shouted, startling Keith into leaping a foot in the air. Grabbing onto the doorframe for support, Keith’s eyes darted around wildly, heart pounding from the shock.

Lance was standing in their living room, his mother and two of his younger siblings there as well. Pidge, Hunk, Shay, and Allura were also somehow in their tiny apartment, all of them wearing large grins on their faces and standing among a mess of balloons and had somehow appeared in the span of time Keith hadn’t been in the room.

“What…?” Keith asked breathlessly, his pounding heart starting to slow down now.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Lance beamed at Keith, moving forward with a little cake cupped in his hands. There were three candles planted evenly across the cakes surface, lit and flickering with Lance’s movements.

“Make a wish,” Lance whispered once he was standing in front of Keith. “Before the wax gets to the frosting.”

“You’re impossible,” Keith said softly, his voice fond as he closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He couldn’t think of anything that he could possibly want for a moment. He had all of his friends here with him in his new apartment. He had Lance, and he couldn’t possibly want anything more.

Eventually he settled on something before opening his eyes to blow out the candles.

“You seemed like you were thinking about a lot,” Pidge joked, coming up to shove playfully at Keith’s shoulder. “Their just candles, their wishes can’t carry a lot of weight.”

“It wasn’t a big wish,” Keith countered. “It just took me a while to think of it.”

Hunk was suddenly on Keith’s other side, pulling Keith into a signature big bear hug of his. Keith smiled fondly and hugged Hunk back. Lance and his mother were cutting up the cake on the little coffee tables that they had dragged into the apartment earlier. Keith watched his boyfriend fondly for a moment before Allura captured his attention with a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, Keith,” she smiled. “I spoke with Shiro yesterday and he wanted me to tell you happy birthday, as well. And he wanted me to give you this.”

Allura handed him a tiny box, unwrapped but with an intricate little bow placed on top. Opening it curiously, Keith looked up at Allura in complete shock at what was inside. He couldn’t find words for a moment, making Allura laugh at his expression.

“How…how did you afford this? This looks really expensive…” Keith murmured, fingers ghosting over the silver, engraved band that rested on the velvet prop inside the box. The neat, thin engraving bore Keith’s initials and his date of birth, looking slim and elegant.

“Shiro’s been saving money for this apparently,” Allura said, fondness obvious in her voice. “He asked me to have this commissioned about two weeks ago and told me how to pay for it. He said he’s really proud of you, Keith. And I think he sent a letter for you, but it hasn’t gotten here yet, so keep an eye out for that.”

“Thank you, Allura,” Keith said, closing the box and moving forward to hug her firmly. Her arms wound around his shoulders, feeling warm and safe and making Keith yet again grateful that his brother had found her and fallen for her. She had been there for him just after Shiro had left and Keith had been having a hard time with that transition. She always welcomed him into her bakery and her home, even if he rarely took her up on it.

“Cake time!” Lance’s voice crowed, Keith pulling back from Allura’s hug and beaming as his boyfriend carried several little paper plates ladened with cake over to their small gaggle of friends. Keith stole a plate from Lance’s hands and left a kiss on his cheek. Lance passed around the rest of the plates he had brought over before wrapping himself contentedly around Keith from behind. Leaning his weight back into Lance, Keith happily watched his friends mingling in their not-quite-moved-in apartment living room.

“You okay, babe?” Lance murmured against the shell of Keith’s ear. The feeling sent a pleasant shiver down Keith’s spine that he tried to suppress. But judging by the feeling of Lance smirking against the back of his neck, Keith guessed he failed at hiding it.

Looking around their apartment again, Keith pressed back into Lance a little more firmly and smiled to himself with a little sigh.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Everything’s perfect.”

* * *

“I never thought I would be back here…” Pidge mumbled, staring at the doorbell in front of her with apprehension. Hunk stood behind her, having offered to accompany her once he found out what it was she was planning on doing. 

“You know, you still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he reminded Pidge gently. “No one expects you to do this, either.”

“You’re wrong about that,” Pidge huffed out, trying to gather her courage. “I expect myself to do this.”

With that, she reached out and pressed down on the doorbell firmly to her parents’ front door. The familiar chime of the bell she had grown up with chimed happily from the other side of the door. It made Pidge wince a little. She knew her parents were home at this time of day, and she knew how loud that doorbell was from inside the house.

So she knew they would come to the door at the very least. Whether or not they would open it was being left to chance. 

Surprisingly, they didn’t have to wait long before the front door opened to reveal not one, but both of Pidge’s parents standing before them. Their matching, disapproving stares whittled at Pidge’s courage, but she raised her chin and glared right back at them. 

“Mother, father,” she greeted through grit teeth.

“The prodigal son returns,” her father said in monotone. The comment felt like a slap to the face anyway, and Pidge was surprised she didn’t stumble like she had been physically hit. Hunk’s hand was at her shoulder, and Pidge could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves.

“Not really,” Pidge managed to force out. “I came to get some of my things from upstairs. After that, you’ll never hear from me again.” 

“And what makes you think you have the right to anything in this house?” Pidge’s mother spoke up finally, looking every bit as disgusted with Pidge as the day Pidge had told her parents that she was trans.

“I mean, I highly doubt that you and ol’ pops here are really getting much use out of my old clothes and school books,” Pidge snipped at them. “But if you are, please tell me now and I’ll leave them to you. Just thought it might help with you cleaning out my existence.”

“You ungrateful little— ” Pidge’s father started to say. But Hunk cut the man off by beaming and shoving past them, dragging Pidge inside with him.

“Thanks!” Hunk called over his shoulder as he shoved Pidge in front of him and up the stairs. “We shouldn’t be more then fifteen minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Holt!”

Once they were upstairs, Pidge leaned against her closed bedroom door and rubbed her hands over her face, pulling her glasses off and just trying not to cry. Hunk stood beside her and pulled her into his side for a hug. They stayed like that for a moment before Pidge stood up and put her glasses back on. Hunk gave her a look, to which she waved away his concern and directed him to her closet to start pulling things out while she dragged her suitcase from under her bed.

In total, it only took the two of them about ten minutes to pack up all of the clothes that Pidge wanted to take with her. Shifting through her books, Pidge only took a handful of them, shoving them into the backpack she had brought along. There were also a few trinkets and decorations from her bedroom that meant something to Pidge. Once she was finished, and Hunk had fetched some of her more important toiletries that she didn’t want to repurchase, Pidge was ready to say goodbye to her childhood home for good.

They were still within those fifteen minutes Hunk had promised as they dragged Pidge’s suitcase from her room. But she stopped suddenly, ducking into Matt’s bedroom and grabbing two things from there.

Her parents had left his room mostly untouched after he died, so Pidge still knew where everything was. She had spent a lot of time in Matt’s room since they were so close. And while it was slightly a mess, it was organized.

The first thing she grabbed was a picture off of Matt’s desk; one that she wasn’t sure her parents knew was still there considering it was partially hidden. It was Matt with Shiro, looking the happiest he had ever been in his life. Pidge tucked it carefully into her bag before rifling through Matt’s things to find the necklace he used to always wear. He hadn’t been wearing it for some reason on the night he died (Pidge suspected he had been running late for his date with Shiro and had forgotten it) so it was somewhere in here.

“Gotcha,” Pidge muttered, pulling out the dog tag necklace that Shiro had given to Matt. They weren’t official tags, but Shiro had been training with a sort of pre-army program during his high school years. And like the sap Pidge knew Shiro to be, he had given them to Matt.

Remerging from Matt’s bedroom, the dog tags tucked into her jacket pocket, Pidge nodded to Hunk and they started down the stairs. Pidge’s parents emerged from the kitchen when they heard them, glaring at Hunk and Pidge the whole way down. Pidge sent Hunk outside to his parents’ car with her suitcase, promising that she would follow him out in a minute.

Once they were alone, Pidge faced her parents, glaring at them and trying to muster up the courage to give them the goodbye she had practiced in her head. But the moment her father opened his mouth, her plan flew out the window. 

“You’re ungrateful and a disgrace, you know that? How dare you do this to your mother and I? After we lost our first son? Now you waltz around town playing pretend and dress up and now you think you can walk out? You’re a minor, a minor we disowned. The government will find you and put you in a home where you belong. If you just stop this game and act like our son again you—”

“I am _not_ your son,” Pidge cut her father off harshly. “And I’m not your daughter either for that matter, as you’ve made that abundantly clear. I hope that I never see either of you ever again, because I don’t want to. I’m going to be moving into a house with a family that actually gives a damn about me the way I am. So since I could really give a shit about what you think of me now, let me tell you, from the bottom of my heart: _Fuck. You._ ”

“Young man—!” Pidge’s father started to shout, but Pidge cut him off once again.

“My name is Katie,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left, slamming the door firmly behind her as she left them behind for good.

* * *

“Have a good day, Mrs. Tia!” Hunk called cheerfully after one of the bakery regulars. Allura came out from the kitchen around the same time, smiling at Hunk as she started to restock the display case in places it was lacking. Hunk wiped down the counter and danced a little to the song playing softly over the speakers in the ceiling.

“How are you doing, Hunk?” Allura asked suddenly, leaning her hip against the counter and dusting some flour off of her hand on her apron. Her long hair was done up in an intricate, braided bun, little strands falling loosely around her face.

“I’m doing good,” Hunk answered honestly.

“Yeah?’ She asked gently. “How are things at home? Are your parents doing better these days?”

“They are,” Hunk beamed happily. “Mom was actually promoted last week, so money problems aren’t as bad. We still aren’t, y’know, living large and all that. But it’s better. Oh! And Shay’s rugby team got through to regionals yesterday! She’s been texting me non-stop about it. She’s so cute when she’s excited about sports.”

“That’s great!” Allura exclaimed. “I should bake a cake for her team to celebrate!”

“Really?” Hunk beamed. “You would do that? Allura she would _love_ that! Shay’s been talking about your cupcakes for weeks ever since I brought her one from work. Her team’s having a little celebration party at the end of the week before they head off to regionals for the weekend. Is that enough time? I know it’s kind of short notice.”

“That’s plenty of time!” Allura beamed, waving away Hunk’s concerns. “I am a professional, after all.”

“Of course,” Hunk chuckled. “You’re the best, Allura. Truly amazing.”

"I know," Allura giggled, flouncing back into the kitchen, most likely to start on that cake for Shay. Hunk, pulling out his phone, sent Shay a quick text to tell her about the cake so she could relay the information to her coach later on. She was, of course, ecstatic with the news and promised Hunk that she would give him a million kisses for getting Allura to do this.

The chime of the café door opening drew Hunk's attention away from his phone as he looked up to greet the new customer.

"Welcome to—mom? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to work?" Hunk came out from behind the counter to meet his mother, who was carrying a little thermos in her hands and smiling brightly at her son. Allura, hearing Hunk from the back, poked her head out of the kitchen, catching Hunk's mother's attention.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "You must be his boss, Allura. Dear, I've brought you some of my special homemade soup, as a thank you gift for everything you've done for my son over the past couple months. He's been gushing about how wonderful it is to work with someone so understanding, and I wanted to show our family's appreciation."

"Ma'am that's so thoughtful of you," Allura said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment as she accepted the thermos from over the counter. "But you really don't need to thank me. Hunk is a wonderful worker and I'm glad to have him here. If anything, I should be the one thanking you for raising such a kind young man."

Hunk had his face buried in his hands, feeling completely flustered that this was a conversation that was even happening. He just hoped that Coran didn't pop out of the back kitchen to loudly proclaim his love for Hunk as well. He adored Allura's uncle, but this situation was enough as it was.

"Mom," Hunk said, sounding pained as she and Allura continued to praise Hunk. "Mom, don't you have to go to work?"

"Oh, yes I do!" Hunk's mother seemed to abruptly remember the time. "I wish I could stay longer, but my son's right. It was lovely to meet you, Allura. Perhaps I'll stop by another time when I'm not heading to work."

"Please do!" Allura responded cheerfully. "Oh and before you go, please take this with you. Think of it as my thanks to you." Reaching into the display case, Allura pulled out one of the little snack sandwiches they sold, wrapped up sweetly and ready to go whenever. Hunk's mother took it gratefully, leaving a kiss on her son's cheek before dashing out the door.

"I love her, but she embarrasses me so much sometimes," Hunk groaned, dropping his head onto the counter top in front of him. "If she comes back here, make sure I'm not here. I don't want to sit around watching you two bond. It's weird; no offense."

Allura laughed and pat Hunk's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Hunk. I'll make sure your mother and I talk about how wonderful you are without you here. Now, I have to get back to that cake for your girlfriend. Oh! Maybe we can invite her to join us next time! I'm sure she'll have lots of wonderful things to say about you!"

"Allura!" Hunk whined, watching his boss laugh her way back into the kitchen.

* * *

“So have you guys done it in your new apartment yet?”

“Pidge!” Lance spluttered, choking on his juice, as Keith turned crimson beside him. Keith’s hand was on Lance’s thigh, just above his knee, and his grip tightened with his embarrassment.

“Well, have you?” Pidge leaned forward, her hair brushing over her shoulders as she wiggled her eyebrows at the two of them. She had been steadily growing it out, and it wasn’t nearly as long as it used to be, but it was getting there. Lance kept insisting she looked adorable with short hair, but Pidge was determined to keep growing it. 

“No, Pidge,” Lance said in exasperation, cheeks tinged with pink. “We haven’t. Now could you please drop it? Where did that even come from?”

Pidge grinned innocently and turned to Hunk, holding out her hand.

“I told you they hadn’t,” Pidge sing-songed. “Now fork over the twenty.”

“Are you shitting me?” Lance cried. “You _bet_ on our sex life?”

“You wanna say that any louder, Lance?” Pidge asked, tucking her money into her school bag happily. “I’m sure the whole cafeteria would _love_ to hear about your sex life.”

“Pidge,” Lance whined. Before he could keep complaining to her about her conniving ways, there was suddenly a presence behind them, making Pidge and Hunk fall quiet across the table. Confused, Lance and Keith twisted around to find Lotor and Acxa and a few others that Lance didn’t recognize standing over them. Lance hadn’t told Keith about what had happened months ago, considering that it kind of fell by the wayside in light of what happened. But now the memories rushed to the front of Lance’s mind.

“What do you want?” Lance asked bluntly, startling his friends into looking at him in surprise. He normally was a very cheerful person and greeted people with a smile and kind word. Even Shay glanced at Hunk for an explanation, one he didn’t have.

“I see you’ve made a recovery from that accident you got into, Kogane,” Lotor smirked at Keith. Lance felt his heart race and his blood roar in his ears when Keith shrunk into himself a little. He may have recovered from what happened, but that didn’t mean he was okay with talking about what had happened.

“Hey, asshole,” Lance snapped, reaching out and grabbing Keith’s hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Why don’t you go find something else to do, yeah? You’re making me lose my appetite.”

“Lance,” Keith protested quietly. “It’s fine. Just let it go.”

“No,” Lance stood up. “You know what, Lotor? I can’t stand you. I don’t know much about you, but I can’t stand you. You insulted my relationship with Keith and me all those weeks ago, and I thought that would be that. But now you come crawling back here – probably because you’re bored – and start poking at my boyfriend’s insecurities? What the hell is wrong with you? Just leave, okay? Because we’re not amused, and we’re not going to play your game.”

“When did he insult you?” Keith asked suddenly, pulling himself to his feet and wrapping his hand around Lance’s elbow. “What did he say?”

Lance continued to glare at Lotor their gazes locked, waiting for the other to flinch first. But he ground out through clenched teeth, “he insinuated that because I’m bisexual, I would be disloyal to you.”

Keith was silent for a moment, before his voice asked low and dangerous from beside Lance. “He said what?”

Startled, Lance looked over at Keith, having never heard Keith’s voice sound like that before. And he had never seen that look in Keith’s eyes before, glaring dangerously at Lotor and looking like he was ready to stand between Lotor and Lance should things escalate.

“It doesn’t matter, Keith,” Lance reassured him. “He’s just a pretentious asshole that doesn’t understand anything. He doesn’t even know us.”

“I don’t need to,” Lotor spoke up matter-of-factly. “If you’re bisexual, you’re a no good cheater, no better than a whore in my opinion. I mean, there’s really no—”

Suddenly Lotor was on the floor, a hand clutching his cheek as he cried out and stared up in shock at Keith standing over him. Keith was breathing heavily, his eyes shining with fury. Lance reached out and dragged Keith back a few steps, completely shocked by his boyfriend’s outburst.

“Yeah, I was going to let this go,” Keith panted. “But then you opened that fucking mouth of yours.”

“Keith! What are you doing?” Lance whispered furiously. 

“He was _insulting_ you, Lance!” Keith shot back. “You, the most loyal and caring person I’ve ever met in my life. He doesn’t know shit about you and the lengths you go to for me. So I’m not just going to sit here and let him talk to you like that!”

Lance glanced over at the commotion from across the cafeteria, a couple teachers pushing their way through the crowd of students that had started to flock the moment they realized there was a fight happening. Pidge was suddenly at Lance’s elbow, shoving him and Keith in the opposite direction. Hunk seemed to be dashing in the direction of the teachers with Shay by his side, possibly to try and distract them from the situation.

“Go!” Pidge hissed. “We’ll cover for you and make something up.”

“Pidge—” Lance tried to protest, but Pidge shoved the two of them again and gave him an exasperated look.

“Trust us!”

Not wanting to deal with the situation of being forced to come out to the administration just to properly explain what had happened, Lance pulled Keith after him, disappearing into the crowd of students and heading for the doors that would lead them outside. He knew that there was a chance the staff would be on his side, but he knew for a fact that some of them could give a shit about his sexuality and would more then likely use it against him.

“Lance?” Keith panted as they ran across the parking lot towards the dingy little car Lance’s family had pitched together to get him for his birthday. “Where are we going?”

“We’re ditching for the rest of the day,” Lance grinned, sliding into the driver’s seat and urging his car to start. “I don’t feel like dealing with this place anymore today. Wanna go to the lake? We haven’t been there in forever.”

Keith stared at him for a moment before leaning over the center console and kissing Lance firmly on the mouth. His lips moved gently against Lance’s for a moment before they pulled apart enough for Keith to smile against Lance’s lips. Lance felt a little breathless, but he smiled as well and chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“You’re incredible, Lance,” Keith murmured. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Don’t ever let anyone make you think you’re less then you are, okay? Because if you do, I’ll punch them again.”

Lance laughed and pulled back from Keith, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the school’s parking lot. He rolled down the windows, letting in the brisk, chilly air whipping past them as they accelerated down the road. As they sat at a stop light halfway across town, Keith turned to face Lance and placed his hand over Lance’s where it rested on the gear shift.

“I love you, Lance.”

Lance looked over at Keith just as the light turned green.

"I love you, too."


End file.
